tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23094465174500339682019-01-29T01:59:29.733-08:00The Nippapañca Blog
(alias "The Bahiya Blog") The journal of an American Theravada Buddhist monk, sharing experiences and philosophical reflections after his return from 20 years in the forests of Burma.
David Reynoldsnoreply@blogger.comBlogger211125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-51445350903882378982017-06-09T12:23:00.000-07:002017-06-09T12:23:05.284-07:00Sati (Attention)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Hello Everyone<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;After a year's vacation I have started another blog, which will be quite different from this one. It is less explicitly Buddhist in orientation, and is especially devoted to political incorrectness. Western Buddhism has been hijacked by a kind of feminized politically correct "progressivism," along with much else in western civilization, and I am moved to take a stand.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;I've mentioned before that refusing to take responsibility for one's own unhappiness and blaming somebody else for it is "the Western disease"; and now it has been systematized into a new movement almost amounting to a religion (a spiritually bankrupt one, but still). Now the "correct" attitude to have is, if you are unhappy, blame patriarchal white men! Bah. The new blog takes on this delusional attitude to the point of absolute heresy. So if you don't like even worse heresy than that contained in this here blog, for gawd's sake don't read the new one. Consider this your trigger warning.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The new blog is here: <a href="http://politicallyincorrectdharma.blogspot.com/">politicallyincorrectdharma.blogspot.com</a>.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;May you be as happy as Samsara and the First Noble Truth will allow.</div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-1106290303821043002016-06-04T17:45:00.000-07:002016-06-05T22:10:54.182-07:00Conclusion to This Here Blog<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; </b><i>Everything that has a beginning has an end, Neo.&nbsp;&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Well, my friends, this is the final post on this here blog. The very, very last one, in all probability (although I will continue to moderate any comments and may continue to mess around a bit with stuff on the sidebar). But at the same time, considering that it will be the first post that people clicking on thebahiyablog.blogspot.com will see, the one at the top of the queue, it may also serve as an introduction. Which just goes to show that everything and every moment is both a beginning and an end, as well as its own simple self. We are, all of us, the result of what we were yesterday, and the cause of what we will be tomorrow. But enough of moralizing, because this is the end.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Although it may be best to let the blog speak for itself, I will offer one key to better understanding the mass of information contained herein. All my life I have loved playing devil’s advocate. Even as a little kid I delighted in saying nursery rhymes wrong on purpose, for the sake of gratuitous absurdity and pushing the proverbial envelope. Or, to be more precise, perhaps, I have somehow adopted a moral orientation in life which could be called <i>lawful neutral</i>.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Those of you who remember the old pre-video Dungeons and Dragons game may recall that each character had not only a species (human, elf, half-orc, etc.) and a vocation (warrior, wizard, thief, etc.), but also an ethical orientation. So it turns out that, in the parlance of Dungeons and Dragons, I have become, philosophically at least, a lawful neutral cleric. If I remember correctly, pretty much only clerics adopt the rare and strange lawful neutral orientation. Lawful neutral means that a character must always fight for the side that is getting the worst of it, for the sake of maintaining cosmic balance; and if, because of the character’s skill in fighting or whatever other reason, the losing side actually starts to gain the upper hand, then he or she must switch sides. So in other words, if everyone is leaning to the left, especially if in an ideological way, then I endorse the right, and vice versa. It helps to keep the world in balance, sort of.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This orientation is counterintuitive for me, as if I were really to play Dungeons and Dragons or deliberately to choose an ethical orientation, then I would probably choose something like <i>chaotic good</i>. In some ways I suppose I <i>am</i> chaotic good. It was a significant gleam of insight for me when I realized that I am driven to fight for deviant causes and losing sides, out of a liking for nonconformity, self-governance, and freedom of thought and expression. Especially when I consider that side to be more on the side of wisdom and truth, naturally.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So one of the primary purposes of this blog is to challenge established points of view. In Burma the established view was Theravadin scriptural dogmatism, so I challenged that. After coming to America I found that the established views among Western Buddhists were more along the lines of scientific materialism and liberal political correctness, so I was quickly drawn toward bashing these. One advantage for me is that all these attitudes are so easily bashable for someone who can step outside the ideological matrix in which most of humankind are entrenched.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Please consider the blog which lies before you as a kind of autobiographical philosophical book consisting of 210 chapters (if I counted correctly). Most “chapters” are just as relevant now as they were when they were written, a few possibly even more so. The list of themes at the bottom of the page may be used as a kind of index. The whole thing fairly accurately represents my view of Dharma, human existence, and the world, mainly from the point of view of an unorthodox Theravada Buddhist philosopher and lawful neutral human cleric who has a degree in Biology and has lived in a cave for half his adult life.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If I appear to contradict myself at times, please bear in mind that I hold fast to no one particular perspective. “Objective truth” is itself somewhat of a myth, being only a relative term, with absolute objectivity being, methinks, an unreachable absolute. There are levels of truth, and various ways of looking at it. Also, we all view the world through the filters of our own biases, and that apparently includes the highest saints and sages also, to the extent that their thoughts are the result of conditioning causes.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As venerable Ajahn Chah used to say, “If I see someone veering too far to the left, I say, ‘Go right’; and if I see someone veering too far to the right, I say, ‘Go left.’ But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m contradicting myself.” It helps to keep a person’s perspective in mind—his or her assumed axioms—especially if that perspective is not necessarily shared. I suppose that’s another key to understanding this blog book: My assumed axioms are not necessarily those of the average guy, or even of the average Western Buddhist monk. And sometimes my axioms change for the sake of expedience and effective communication. Metaphysically I am a monster, a non-Euclidean geometer, or at least a throwback to ancient north India.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I very much do not wish to end this four-year-long experiment with hard feelings toward anyone. Everyone who has interacted with me, including those with whom the interaction was unpleasant, have helped me in some way (“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”), and I am thankful for the wealth of experience I have received. Writing this blog has been fun, it has helped me to stay out of trouble, sort of, and I have made some new friends by it, many of whom I have never seen. I hope that all this will be of genuine help to someone else also. If it helps anyone to be more awake, less entrenched in unexamined views, more comfortable about not following the majority, more uncertain of feelings and ideas yet more poised and at ease in the present moment, then my time and effort in writing have been well spent. And may all of you be as well and as happy as Samsara and the first Noble Truth will allow. My sincere blessings are upon all of you. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EkygY3JwQv4/V1I8-wuRHbI/AAAAAAAABvo/rEFgJiUKNYU0nrJVWqbgsbg1DCAVQ0t-gCLcB/s1600/That%2527s%2Ball%252C%2Bfolks.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EkygY3JwQv4/V1I8-wuRHbI/AAAAAAAABvo/rEFgJiUKNYU0nrJVWqbgsbg1DCAVQ0t-gCLcB/s400/That%2527s%2Ball%252C%2Bfolks.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-33796123767311545502016-05-29T13:55:00.000-07:002016-05-29T18:12:34.044-07:00Reflections in Bellingham<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Greetings from Bellingham, Washington, where I am visiting old friends and supporters, and finishing this blog where I started it, thereby coming full circle in a way that seems poetic and just.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This week’s post was going to be the absolute final one, the conclusion; although I started thinking that the first post of June has become more or less traditionally the blog’s anniversary issue, so it would be nice to end it on the big fourth anniversary. Also I considered that I wouldn’t want the final appearance of the sidebar to include in the final month’s offerings my endorsement of Donald Trump for US President. (It might give people the wrong idea about me and the blog in general.) So I’m sitting here in a guest room of the house of a good guy named Clint and am still trying to get a clear idea of what I should write about. I have lots of ideas, but no clear one for what would be appropriate for the second-to-last installment of this little dramatic literary presentation. So it looks like I may just meander aimlessly.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One of my foremost interests lately is still the strange phenomenon of political instability in recent Western society, particularly in the USA, Western Europe (including the UK), and Canada. For example this morning someone sent me the news of yet another talk by Milo Yiannopoulis being (violently) shut down by Black Lives Matter enthusiasts and leftist pro-Bernie Sanders supporters at DePaul University. Then I clicked on a link showing anti-Trump protesters (also consisting largely of Sanders supporters) burning American flags, throwing rocks at police, and trying to break into a recent Trump rally in New Mexico in an attempt to shut it down. Some of the organizers of the anti-Trump demonstration were attempting to keep it nonviolent, but they eventually failed, with the demonstration turning into what police later called a riot. I still say, based on what I have seen, that most of the hatred, hostility, and howling hysteria at demonstrations in America, most of it, is coming from the political far left. (That may or may not include all the rioting black people in urban areas.) And it is finally starting to get more coverage in the big corporate media (who mostly lean to the left and hate Donald Trump) because leftist radicals are starting to cause trouble for the media’s favorite, Hillary Clinton. Anyway, just saying.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It is too easy to adopt a side in a controversy and despise the other side as a bunch of fools, or worse. I’ve noticed an inclination toward that tendency in myself of course, and I assume others have noticed it in me also. So it’s good to bear in mind that everyone is doing the best they know how, and that everyone, aside from a few hypothetical enlightened beings, is literally delusional. I was reminded of this recently while watching a two-part video by Sargon of Akkad (here are parts <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bECBXMtv-08" target="_blank">1</a></b> and <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlP9TH-_6DI" target="_blank">2</a></b>) discussing a fellow that Sargon often refers to as Black Hitler. The guy is an American black supremacist who openly and virulently hates white people, often calling them “toilet-seat-complectioned Neanderthal cave beasts,” and even finding politically correct and rather soft-headed white people to testify against themselves on his videos. Anyway, in part 2 of the aforementioned video about “Black Hitler,” Sargon shows this man essentially having a rather extreme emotional meltdown in which he is, through his tears and sobs, expressing just how deeply he hates everything white people represent, and to some degree <i>why</i> he hates them/us. And at the very least one cannot help but see that this fellow is deeply, terribly unhappy. Even Sargon, who is often pretty cynical, was backing off and expressing feelings of compassion. It just goes to show that people who hate others and deliberately cause trouble for others tend to be unhappy people themselves. A happy person is most likely to live and let live. Troublemakers and “bad people” tend to be unhappy, and are lashing out in pain, even if they happen to he smiling or hooting with laughter while they’re doing it.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But forgiving others for their trespasses seems to be going as out of fashion as the Christianity which formerly endorsed it. In the new PC ideology all the responsibility seems to be on the person who speaks, with none on the hearer. In the old days people were advised to retain some equanimity and emotional maturity and forgive someone who spoke offensively, whereas now anyone who speaks in a way that could conceivably be considered offensive to somebody is seen as someone to blame and silence, and not usually with compassion. The pendulum swings from one extreme to the other, with most of us seemingly not aware that a place in the middle, with regard to responsibility in a conversation or with regard to political orientation, or spirituality, or whatever, is usually wisest and most conducive to the happiness of the majority.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The same is true with regard to gender. First we had an overtly male-dominant society. As feminism became more mainstream more people began seeing this as wrong…but instead of finding balance, with masculine and feminine virtues being equally honored, now we have the pendulum swinging toward feminine dominance, with masculinity itself being seen as a problem to be eliminated. This results in a situation even more out of balance than before, and more unstable. But it’s politically incorrect to say that.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So I guess I’ll just round out this meander with a few reflections on male/female relationships in Western society—certainly not as complaints, but as respectful suggestions, more or less. I must admit that I have always had a natural, instinctive, intuitive admiration for and openness toward women, but that over the past few years I have become <i>intellectually</i> somewhat more inclined toward a kind of misogyny. I assume that the aggressiveness and man-bashing of feminism nowadays have bred more misogyny in American culture than there has been in a long time, possibly ever. But, on a rather dim bright side at least it helps me to remain a celibate monk. I would prefer to love women, however, even if I don’t cohabit with one. Love is very important in life. Love is acceptance.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Part of my trouble is that I have a degree in Biology, and am inclined to see human beings as a species of animal when I am not seeing us as embodied spirit. We are a kind of upgraded ape. And being a head-oriented objective male besides, I freely acknowledge that men and women naturally differ physically <i>and</i> psychologically. We have natural human instincts that are bred into us, and male instincts (largely because of male hormones) are different from female instincts.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One instinctive difference between men and women, speaking very generally, is that women are more inclined to favor security to freedom, while men’s preference tends to be vice versa. A liking for security for everyone is one of the numerous reasons why women are more likely to lean toward the political left and socialism. It is also a reason why women, again speaking very generally, tend to try to keep their mate (usually a man) under their control, as much as they are able. But this leads to an interesting problem, which may be of interest especially to guys who read this.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Have you ever been outdoors and seen two butterflies fluttering around with the one if front engaging in hyperactive evasive maneuvers and the one behind in hot pursuit? Sure you have. Well, the one in front is female, and the one behind is male. This is because female butterflies have evolved a behavior pattern of trying to escape from amorous males. This ensures (get this) that only a male who is faster and more agile than the female in question can chase her down and mate with her. It makes perfect sense: A female should mate with a male who is stronger than she is, in order to give her offspring the best genetic traits possible. Many species of animal are like this, <i>including humans.</i>&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In the book <i>Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors </i>by Carl Sagan and his wife (whose name I don’t remember, and am too lazy to look up), the authors cite the extremely politically incorrect scientific finding that women are actually more likely to date a man who successfully date raped them on a previous occasion than they would be to date a man who tried to date rape them, but failed because she succeeded in fighting him off. This is the same instinct at work: A woman instinctively has more respect for a man who is stronger than her. The same instinct accounts for the fact that women are more likely to be unfaithful to their mate with men of higher status and social power than their mate—like their doctor or boss, for example.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So here’s the interesting problem. A woman will try to bend a man to her will, and if she succeeds she will experience a certain satisfaction, but she will also lose a certain amount of respect for him. So if the man displays the firmness of his backbone and refuses to be her “beta bitch,” so to speak, will she love him more? Well, maybe. That’s the way it allegedly used to be, but nowadays feminist and “progressive” ideology may have inhibited the latter response in favor of outraged indignation and loathing. Sorry, guys. Mandatory equality has thrown the proverbial monkey wrench into the works of natural heterosexual relationships, in more ways than one, or even ten. The new societal norms result in a no-win scenario for men, or at least for men who mate with the new breed of Western woman. I don’t know what to tell you on that one, except that you should be very careful, and that celibacy really does have its advantages.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Still, it’s better than old-fashioned male dominance though, right? Well, not necessarily. It is true that men had many social advantages over women, and I really do not endorse inequality of opportunity between the two sexes. (I won’t use the word “gender” here, as recently there have come to be any number of those.) But a family setup in which the man went out and worked for a living, making all or most of the money, while the woman stayed home most of the time and raised children and maintained a home and a family, was a system that did work for a very long time, and which was pretty much in harmony with instinctive human nature (which nature the new ideology denies, but the new ideology is based more upon what feels right than on empirical facts). But consider: Not only did it prove to be a system that was viable for propagating the species, it really did include feminine influence in society on a par with male influence. This is true because in the old days almost every human being had as her or his primary guide in the formation of their character none other than a woman, their own mother. This was a profound power of women, which unfortunately is belittled nowadays, and not only by feminist ideologues. It is also true that consumerism and an unnecessarily high standard of living contribute to having both parents working, with small children farmed out to daycare centers where said children learn to be politically correct. But even the unnecessarily high standard of living is largely a feminine by-product, as it is also feminine nature to dislike discomfort and a Spartan existence more than men do, and to care more about what the neighbors think.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The old-fashioned way, with women being expected to be more virtuous than men and to raise children, inspired a respect for women that is now in decline, partly at the insistence of feminists. Much of a man’s inspiration to “make good” and be a supporting member and even defender of women and of society came from this age-old value system. Western men have become less interested in being dedicated fathers, with deleterious effects on children. (My own father had a profound effect on my character, as he taught me such qualities as fearlessness, determination, and a love of freedom that I would not have acquired from my mother or from a schoolteacher. They taught me other things.) Statistics show that children raised without a father are much more likely, for example, to resort to a life of crime later in life. So simply replacing fathers with a socialized welfare state is not working out nearly so well in that regard as the system it replaced.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Here I would like to ask a serious question to any woman who reads this. What could be more important, fulfilling, and sacred for an ordinary, normal woman than to create a new human life and to nurture it, teaching that new person how to be a good and happy individual? Seriously. How could imitating a man and pursuing a career be more important than making every effort to be as good a mother as possible? This seems so obvious to me, but feminism has actually disdained traditional motherhood to some degree, being in my opinion rather misogynistic, as it rejects possibly the most important role of a woman in human society and encourages women to be like men instead (in addition to pressuring men to be more like women). But men can’t take up the slack on creating new humans. Only women can perform that miracle. Most men don’t have the nurturing, mothering instincts that most women have either. Personally I am sorry to see that Western civilization is neglecting an age-old and revered feminine role out of a kind of pseudoscientific new social ideology.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But I do believe in equality, and in equal opportunity. If a woman wants to pursue a career instead of staying at home for the first several years of her children’s lives, or chooses not to have children at all, that certainly should be her right. But the choice of adopting the old-fashioned way should not be vilified or despised. Motherhood is a sacred thing, and should not be neglected for the sake of political ideology and the adoption of masculine values. Being a mother is about as feminine as a woman can possibly be, especially if she is a good and wise and conscientious mother. A kind of misogyny teaches women to imitate men and despise what is truly feminine.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So anyway, this is my last public appeal on this blog for the health and well-being of society. Take it or leave it for whatever it is worth, and be happy and well. And forgive me my trespasses, as I also forgive those who are indebted to me.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PRW_R-a5Sew/V0nnvAkAw4I/AAAAAAAABvY/t5yYLjsJb_U7KoK7dSLi5_9tSTPpSxNNQCLcB/s1600/Rain%2Bon%2Bthe%2BWater.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PRW_R-a5Sew/V0nnvAkAw4I/AAAAAAAABvY/t5yYLjsJb_U7KoK7dSLi5_9tSTPpSxNNQCLcB/s400/Rain%2Bon%2Bthe%2BWater.gif" width="285" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>ah, I love the Pacific Northwest</i></span></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>(this is what it's like)</i></span></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-78061320916878496422016-05-21T00:03:00.000-07:002016-05-23T11:59:38.556-07:00Moby Dick as the Left Fist of God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Moby-Dick, <i>or the white whale.</i></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A hunt. The last great hunt.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For what?</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For Moby-Dick, the huge white sperm whale: who is old, hoary, monstrous, and swims alone; who is unspeakably terrible in his wrath, having so often been attacked; and snow-white.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Of course he is a symbol.&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Of what?&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I doubt if even Melville knew exactly. That’s the best of it.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; —<i>D. H. Lawrence</i></div><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p3"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; </i>“…But as I was going to say, if thou wantest to know what whaling is, as thou tellest ye do, I can put ye in a way of finding it out before ye bind yourself to it, past backing out. Clap eye on Captain Ahab, young man, and thou wilt find that he has only one leg.”&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “What do you mean, sir? Was the other one lost by a whale?”&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Lost by a whale! Young man, come nearer to me: it was devoured, chewed up, crunched by the monstrousest parmacetty that ever chipped a boat!—ah, ah!”</div><div class="p3">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <i>—from Moby-Dick</i>&nbsp;</div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I consider <i>Moby-Dick</i>, written in the mid-19th century by an American fellow named Herman Melville, to be a book containing more profundity and genuine spiritual wisdom than many religious scriptures, including the Old Testament of the Bible. The novel could reasonably be called <i>Upanishadic</i>; or at least it could be called one of the most Upanishadic texts in all of American classic literature, especially in fiction. This is largely because <i>Moby-Dick</i> is a mystical text; an elaborate parable describing, in allegorical or poetical terms, the nature of “God,” or, if you prefer, of Ultimate Reality, the ultimate Kantian Thing in Itself, from which this apparent world we live in unfolds. Melville was a kind of transcendentalist mystic, which was somewhat in fashion in his day, and which is manifest in this his greatest, most acclaimed, and most analyzed novel.&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So I suppose the thing to do here is to present my case.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One recurring symbol of the Divine Infinite in the novel is the sky, and, more particularly, the sun. For example in chapter CXVIII, “The Quadrant,” on a beautiful sunny day in the North Pacific, off the coast of Japan, Captain Ahab, in a fit of disgusted, rebellious impatience, suddenly decides to stop using his quadrant (an astronomical instrument used for determining latitude) for navigation, literally and symbolically refusing to look to the heavens for guidance any longer. He throws the quadrant to the deck, smashes it…and immediately afterwards commands the helmsman to steer toward the Equatorial fishing ground to the southeast, which is the white whale’s most likely location.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another example: On the very same day that Ahab directs the ship toward the central ocean where Moby Dick awaits, a typhoon unexpectedly rises, shredding the ship’s sails, smashing Ahab’s whaleboat, gravely endangering the ship, and, with a kind of St. Elmo’s fire, causing the masts and rigging of the vessel to glow with a luminous electrical corona. The crew of course see this as a bad sign, with the usually carefree, irreligious second officer Mr. Stubb becoming unusually serious and downright frightened, so that he begins praying, essentially, with exclamations of “The corpusants have mercy on us all”—corpusants being an old-fashioned name for the luminous plasma discharge. So upon renouncing the guidance of the heavens and directing the ship in the direction of the white whale, the heavens themselves seem to remonstrate with the whole ship and essentially give fair warning of what they are getting themselves into.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Melville places more spiritual emphasis upon the sea, however; which is understandable when one considers that water is the universal symbol for Spirit. In the very first chapter of the book the narrator discusses his deep calling to go to sea, and he shares such ruminations as this:</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries—stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happens to be supplied with a metaphysical professor. Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are wedded forever.</blockquote><div class="p4">Ishmael continues to make such watery, meditative statements throughout the tale, like, “in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God”; and in a chapter in which he describes standing watch at a masthead on the lookout for whales, he becomes particularly poetically metaphysical:&nbsp;</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">…lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form; seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it.</blockquote><div class="p4">At the conclusion of his biographical sketch of old Perth, the ship’s blacksmith, a man who ruined his own earthly life, lost his family in a horrible calamity, and turned to a life of the sea, the narrator strongly implies that becoming a whaleman is true renunciation; and we may surmise that, likewise, true renunciation is an essential step toward becoming a symbolic hunter of the Whale.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Before moving on to the obvious, most central symbol of the mysterious Divine, I will point out that the ocean seems more of a metaphor for the emptiness, the boundless, infinite field of being, from which manifestations of divinity arise, and not so much a distinct manifestation itself. In the jargon of the Hindu Vedantist philosophy, the shoreless sea would represent Nirguna Brahman, the unthinkable Ultimate Reality which bears no discernible characteristics. The aspect of “God” which is a manifested agent in our world, Brahma the personification of the highest reality, Ishvara the Lord of the Cosmos, the occasionally wrathful “God Almighty,” is the Whale.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; An obvious case of whale as God is Melville/Ishmael’s mention of “Vishnoo,” the divine sustainer of the cosmos in Hindu theology, in his first earthly avatar manifesting himself as a gigantic fish—with, it should be remembered, the 19th-century narrator considering whales to be the biggest kind of fish. So Vishnu first appeared in this world as Leviathan. Also, of course, whales in general are referred to as Leviathan repeatedly in the novel, which lends some Christianity to the god-as-fish motif. When Ishmael first sees Moby Dick swimming majestically through the sea, he compares him to the great god Zeus (alias Jupiter) after He assumed the form of a white bull, swimming from Phoenicia to Crete carrying the beautiful maiden Europa. And the most blatant, unignorable instance is the case of “Gabriel,” a crazed whaler turned prophet aboard the whaling vessel <i>Jeroboam</i> who insists that Moby Dick himself is none other than an incarnation of God Almighty. Towards the end of the story Moby Dick is called, flat-out, “the grand god,” and the body of the ship after being rammed by him the “god-bullied hull.” As early as chapter I of the story, when Ishmael is receiving his call to the sea in his dreams, the White Whale is there, lurking in the deep shadows of his subconscious mind:</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">By reason of these things, then, the whaling voyage was welcome; the great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air.</blockquote><div class="p4">And this was before he had ever heard of the white whale Moby Dick.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; At this point it is expedient to mention a certain feature of the novel that many readers and critics have disliked since its publication; and that is a great number of chapters (no fewer than 37 of them) that are straightforward discussions of whales and the whaling industry that do not necessarily make any direct contribution at all to the plot. There may occur as many as five of these chapters in a row, which I must admit distract from the story and can get a little tedious. They discuss every possible angle the author could think of regarding whales and the hunting of whales. But there are two symbolic reasons why these seemingly extraneous chapters are included; and one of them is to provide hints at the divinity and divine wrath lurking within whales in general, and in the White Whale in particular.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Consider: Ishmael mentions that the whale is the greatest being of all, the greatest that has ever lived, with the sperm whale being the largest species (this being due to the fact that larger whales like blue whales and finbacks were too fast and elusive for sailing ships and rowboats in those days to come anywhere near them), with Moby Dick implied to be the largest sperm whale of them all. Whales have existed since immemorial time: “I am horror-struck at this antemosaic, unsourced existence of the unspeakable terrors of the whale, which, having been before all time, must needs exist after all humane ages are over.” The sperm whale in particular is called the terror of all other sea creatures, with most human whalers not daring to hunt it.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The whale is implied to be formless, as we cannot see its shape when it is covered by water, and when killed and pulled out of the water it loses its true shape. And if we fall into the water and come near enough to see it as it is, we die. Furthermore, the narrator emphasizes that the sperm whale has no face: if you look at it from the front all you see is a blank wall, with its eyes, nose, and mouth all located elsewhere.&nbsp;</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">But in that great Sperm Whale, this high and mighty god-like dignity inherent in the brow is so immensely amplified, that gazing on it, in that full front view, you feel the Deity and the dread powers more forcibly than in beholding any other object in living nature. For you see no one point precisely; not one distinct feature is revealed; no nose, eyes, ears, or mouth; no face; he has none, proper; nothing but the one broad firmament of a forehead, pleated with riddles; dumbly lowering with the doom of boats, and ships, and men.</blockquote><div class="p4">It does, however, show off its tail, thrusting its flukes high into the air whenever it dives; and Ishmael compares this to the LORD who may show his hind parts to an Old Testament prophet, but will show the glory of his face to no one.&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It is emphasized that Moby Dick is also <i>colorless</i>, being white; and in the noteworthy chapter XLII, “The Whiteness of the Whale,” Ishmael points out not only that whiteness is associated with purity and supernaturalism, but that according to science, everything as it really is could be called white in the sense that it is ultimately colorless, color being a perceptual construct of the human mind, not something truly inherent in nature.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The whalers, those symbolic renunciant pilgrims of Spirit who seek the greatest Mystery, have evolved many legends concerning the whale Moby Dick—those who believe in his existence, that is, as there are many who haven’t heard, or if they have heard do not believe. The legends suggest that Moby Dick cannot be killed, and is immortal. Furthermore some sailors maintain that he can appear in more than one place simultaneously, making him ubiquitous if not omnipresent (with immortality being a kind of ubiquity in time).&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Then there is the gold doubloon which Ahab has promised to the first sailor who spots Moby Dick on the day that he spouts red gore and is slain. This coin is the symbol, the representative, the “talisman” of the white whale aboard the <i>Pequod</i>. The coin was minted of “purest, virgin gold” in Ecuador, a country lying on the Equator and thereby situated, in a sense, in the middle of the world. The doubloon is covered with images and rune-like symbols with each person looking upon them interpreting them differently, and with the most mundane minds interpreting them most mundanely.&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Moby Dick himself is finally located at the Equator, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, which Ishmael asserts is the center of the world map, with the Atlantic and Indian Oceans being mere arms to the Pacific.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Put all this together and we have Moby Dick the white whale as a vast, timeless, immortal, unkillable, supernatural, all-powerful, ubiquitous being with no discernible form, no face, and no color; which is found in the center of the world, in the center of all things, at the heart of Reality. And that, my friends, to a theistic mystic at least, is “God.”&nbsp;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Melville/Ishmael makes many other statements suggesting that whales in general, and the white whale in particular, are God, or at least divine instruments, occupying a broad spectrum, with one end of the spectrum fading out into such subtlety that the symbolism is very vague and questionable. But some of the more obvious miscellanea that support the thesis are: There are at least two mentions of religious temples or shrines made from the skeleton of a whale, with the dimensions of one of these carefully tattooed on Ishmael’s arm (along with many other tattoos, causing Ishmael’s symbol-covered body to be reminiscent of Parker in Flannery O’Connor’s story “Parker’s Back”); Moby Dick’s lower jaw is bent into a sickle shape, allowing associations of a Grim Reaper wielding his fateful scythe (and actually it is not uncommon for old bull sperm whales to have twisted or otherwise deformed lower jaws, as they use them in combat amongst themselves in fights over females); the harpooneer Queequeg—a purplish yellow South Sea Island cannibal with his teeth sharpened into points—at one point declares that mere sickness does not have the power to kill him, but only, in Ishmael’s words, “some violent, ungovernable, unintelligent destroyer,” like a whale or a storm at sea, for instance; and it is mentioned again and again in the story that the ship <i>Pequod</i> itself is plentifully inlaid with sperm whale teeth and bone, Ahab’s stool or “throne” is made of whale bone, and even Ahab’s peg leg is composed of sperm whale bone—hinting that the world of the ship itself and even “God’s” most bitter enemy contain “God” in their composition, like Emerson’s omnipresent Brahma:</div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p3">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;They reckon ill who leave me out;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;When me they fly, I am the wings;</div><div class="p3">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;I am the doubter and the doubt,</div><div class="p3">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.&nbsp;</div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p3">It may as well be noted that the main reason why Ahab stayed in seclusion before and shortly after the beginning of the <i>Pequod’s</i> voyage is that his whale bone leg suddenly snapped while he was walking near home, with the jagged end stabbing him in the groin, seriously injuring him; so Ahab’s sworn enemy and reputed cause of all his suffering, the whale, continued to task him even when he was on dry land. (It also is significant that Captain Ahab has a white scar, a streak of Moby Dick’s whiteness, reputedly running the entire length of his body, which evidently was caused by him being struck by lightning while participating in some kind of pagan ceremony.)</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As the sun is to the sky, so the white whale is to the ocean; yet despite all this, as is proper for a mystical text, there is also a fair amount of hinting that the whale is merely a phenomenal agent or manifestation of the world-transcending emptiness of God, as is everything else really, including Ahab himself and his tempter the fire-worshipping Zoroastrian Mephistopheles. I am reminded of a passage in the Old Testament, I think in the book of Isaiah, in which the evil king of Assyria is declared to be, despite his personal belief that he is working out his own selfish ambition, an instrument or agent of God in unleashing His divine vengeance upon the rebellious people of Israel. But Moby Dick, though monstrous and fierce in his wrath, is never really portrayed as evil. He fights only in self defense or in defense of his own kind, and mainly just minds his own business. In the final chase of the white whale he is apparently in mid transit from one place to another and continues to follow a straight line, ignoring the ship, until the boats are lowered after him with lethal intent. And even then he gives fair warning before committing to the final onslaught. So Moby Dick is not exactly the Godhead, but is more like God’s left fist.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One recurring theme supporting the idea of whale as servant, agent, or instrument of God is the continued comparisons to the great fish or whale or Leviathan that swallowed the prophet Jonah in the Bible. The whale performed God’s will, but wasn’t exactly God. And Ishmael wasn’t exactly Jonah either of course, but was indeed a spiritual fugitive who defied the great power, and was punished by it, but was eventually spared for a higher purpose.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One odd borderline case concerns the fact that the white whale’s body was fouled with old, bent harpoons, lances, and ropes tangled together from many previous attempts on his life. (This apparently was not extremely uncommon; for example the non-fictional whale Mocha Dick, on which Moby was largely based, allegedly had nineteen harpoons found embedded in his body, most of which were presumably relics of earlier, less successful attempts to kill him.) So the image is of a formless, colorless, faceless entity which bristles with the outward appearance of the results of human actions. These human artifacts which protrude in a tangle from its body lend the inscrutable being a perceptible, recognizable outward shape and color, so to speak.</div><div class="p3">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I mentioned above the multitude of seemingly extraneous chapters describing everything Ishmael could think of concerning whales, including cetacean taxonomy and physiology, whales in art and legend, and how to cook whale and what it tastes like, much of which information has nothing obviously to do with the actual plot of the story; and I mentioned that the first of two reasons for these chapters is to drop symbolic hints about the mystic identity of the Whale. The other reason is this: Ishmael was the only person on board the <i>Pequod</i> who wasn’t simply trying to kill Moby Dick, or simply trying to make a living as a whaler without deep reflection on what his profession was all about. He deeply wanted to <i>understand</i> the whale as perfectly as he could. In chapter CIV, “The Fossil Whale,” Ishmael says, “Since I have undertaken to manhandle this Leviathan, it behooves me to approve myself omnisciently exhaustive in the enterprise; not overlooking the minutest seminal germs of his blood, and spinning him out to the uttermost coil of his bowels.” This is why he is the sole survivor of the ultimate oceanic spiritual quest, and of the divine apocalyptic wrath finally poured upon the world of the <i>Pequod</i>, the only one found worthy of salvation. He is a <i>jnani</i>, one who attains the ultimate good through knowledge. He is the only one who yearned to know the highest being face to face. But of course he has no face. &nbsp;</div><div class="p3"><br /></div><div class="p4">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p4">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nFfX89Hh3II/VzzvdMCM7PI/AAAAAAAABvA/3Df_XdsFBjQxhqbzwdxyTqMiJqWWUrTtACLcB/s1600/sperm%2Bwhale%2Bflukes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nFfX89Hh3II/VzzvdMCM7PI/AAAAAAAABvA/3Df_XdsFBjQxhqbzwdxyTqMiJqWWUrTtACLcB/s400/sperm%2Bwhale%2Bflukes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p3" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p4"><br /></div><br /><div class="p3"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-33881809122826886912016-05-14T16:25:00.001-07:002016-05-16T21:34:28.092-07:00The Whale (an Introduction)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>“Judge, then, to what pitches of inflamed, distracted fury the minds of his more desperate hunters were impelled, when amid the chips of chewed boats, and the sinking limbs of torn comrades, they swam out of the white curds of the whale’s direful wrath into the serene, exasperating sunlight, that smiled on, as if at a birth or a bridal.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “I have written a wicked book, and feel spotless as a lamb.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; When I was a college student one of the best teachers I ever had, Mr. Van Vactor, declared to my English class that the two greatest American novels ever written are Twain’s <i>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i> and Melville’s <i>Moby-Dick</i>. (Incidentally, he also claimed the three greatest novels of all time, written in any language, to be Dostoevsky’s <i>The Brothers Karamazov</i>, Flaubert’s <i>Madame Bovary</i>, and Dostoevsky’s <i>Crime and Punishment</i>. So Dostoevsky is the supreme novelist, according to Mr. Van Vactor.) My teacher also declared the white whale in <i>Moby-Dick</i> to symbolize life itself, which is an idea that I will attempt to refute eventually.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In fact discussing the symbol of the whale is at present my main interest in discussing <i>Moby-Dick</i>; but I feel that there are some preliminary issues that should be dealt with first, including, and please forgive me, the belabored recent theme of political correctness. I don’t want the discussion of the great mystical symbol to be sullied by postmodern politics, so I quarantine the latter here in a more comprehensive, introductory discussion of the novel.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> has already been censored, bowdlerized, and/or banned in school systems across the United States, primarily because it is <i>racist—</i>exemplified most obviously by one of the main characters being called Nigger Jim. Jim is a good person, and a deeply religious one, and his character was based on a black slave that Twain particularly liked and respected when he was a boy; but he talks funny (for example he says “den” instead of “then”) and is a slave, plus of course he’s called a nigger. Like just about any fiction written before the late 20th century, it’s sexist, homophobic, and transphobic too, but we needn’t get into that, because I’d rather discuss <i>Moby-Dick.</i></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Melville’s great novel also could be called racist (and sexist, and homophobic, and possibly Islamophobic as well), despite the fact that it contains zero use of the word “nigger.” Actually, at the time <i>Moby-Dick</i> was first published, it was extraordinarily, outrageously non-racist, with contemporary critics condemning Melville’s repeated suggestions that non-European non-Christians can even be superior in certain ways. In the novel, the protagonist Ishmael’s dearest friend aboard the whaling ship <i>Pequod</i> is Queequeg, a South Sea Island cannibal with his teeth filed into points, who exhibits more fearlessness, more “Christian charity,” and more of a sense of honor than most or all of his white companions. All three of the black secondary characters—the huge African harpooneer Daggoo, the cabin boy Pip, and the old cook Fleece—are described with obvious respect and sympathy as human beings, but Fleece talks with pretty much the same substandard English as Jim (one line in his classic Sermon to the Sharks is, “You is sharks, sartin; but if you gobern de shark in you, why den you be angel; for all angel is not’ing more dan de shark well goberned”), and of course all the higher officers aboard the ship are patriarchal white men. There are almost no female characters at all, which may be viewed as sexist, and homosexuals and shemales are not mentioned at all, which nowadays may be condemned as politically incorrect heteronormative propaganda. So for all I know <i>Moby-Dick </i>also, the other of the alleged two greatest American novels, may be disapproved reading in American academic institutions.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One fairly <i>obsolete</i> way in which the novel is politically incorrect is the fact that to some degree it glorifies the hunting and killing of whales. Commercial whaling has pretty much gone the way of chariot-making, so nowadays people probably don’t take so much offense to Ishmael’s livelihood as they would have in the 1980’s. But in defense of 1840’s-era Nantucket whalers, most of them were still sincerely of the opinion that whales are just a kind of really big fish, and they had little idea of ecology, so they didn’t realize that whaling could be considered an ethically criminal act. Also, in those days whalers did not shoot whales with deck-mounted cannon firing explosive-tipped harpoons; rather, men in wooden sailing ships would lower rowboats and chase whales to kill them with hand-thrown steel harpoons and hand-held spears; and the sperm whale, being the world’s largest known predator, would sometimes fight back, causing the sperm whale fishery to be a particularly dangerous one. Many whalers were killed by enraged bull sperm whales fighting for their lives. So at least the whales had a fighting chance. I’ve considered that traditional Spanish bullfights also at least give the bull some chance at winning, which is a better deal, methinks, than simply being trucked to a slaughterhouse.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>Moby-Dick</i> is definitely a guy book. No woman could ever, ever have written it. Ever. There were no females on board the <i>Pequod</i>; and considering the rough and very dangerous nature of sperm whale hunting in the mid 19th century, I would guess that there were extremely few, possibly zero, female American sperm whale hunters in those days. In fact the book is such a guy book that it may be quite archaic, like the <i>Iliad </i>or <i>Beowulf</i>, since it still harbors a primeval sentiment of masculine heroism (although much tempered and refined with philosophy and deep feeling), with few civilized men nowadays inclined to live such an outrageously daring lifestyle. They wouldn’t have much chance to live like this even if they wanted to, unless maybe they want to be elite military commandos, or maniacs who hunt grizzly bears with bows and arrows.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For those of you unfamiliar with the book, I suppose I should summarize the plot a little. A man calling himself Ishmael, our narrator, feels a restlessness for the sea and a calling to go on a whaling voyage. So he signs up to be an able-bodied crewman aboard the Nantucket whaler <i>Pequod</i>. Strangely, the captain of the ship remains in seclusion until after the voyage begins, so Ishmael knows little of him, except that one of the ship’s owners referred to Captain Ahab as a great-souled, godlike, yet troubled and gloomy man. It turns out that on his previous voyage Ahab and his crew had tried to kill a huge white sperm whale called Moby Dick. The whale destroyed the pursuing whale boats, so Ahab, much too proud and maniacal to admit defeat, actually jumped into the water with a small knife, in a futile effort to kill the creature. At this point Moby Dick sheared off one of Ahab’s legs with its twenty-foot-long, twisted, scythe-shaped lower jaw. All this happened during the cruise prior to the one on which Ishmael signed up.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Having his leg bitten off, and being defeated and humbled in such a way (with the loss of his leg suggesting a kind of emasculation), causes the extremely proud Ahab to essentially go insane. He becomes a monomaniac completely obsessed with one thing: gaining total revenge on the white whale (despite the obvious fact that he was trying to kill it when it bit his leg off). So Ishmael’s whaling cruise becomes highjacked by its own captain’s mania as the ship sails the oceans of the world to seek and do battle with Moby Dick, implied to be the biggest, baddest whale in the whole world. They eventually find him in the heart of the Pacific Ocean, and do battle with him there, and the white whale, the legendary, biblical Leviathan, in accordance with his mysterious nature, fights back.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The writing of the story was inspired, evidently, mainly by three things. First, Melville himself, although descended from an aristocratic old Dutch family in New York, had the wanderlust as a young man and actually served as a harpooneer on a sperm whaling voyage around the year 1840. This accounts for his very detailed accounts of how a whaling voyage is conducted. Also, the story was partly inspired by the final, fateful cruise of the American whaling vessel <i>Essex</i>, which was rammed and sunk by an infuriated bull sperm whale in the South Pacific in 1820, resulting in the deaths of most of the crew. Also it was inspired by the historical fact of an albino sperm whale called Mocha Dick which was usually encountered off the coast of southern Chile, and which had a reputation for being a dangerous fighter, having learned successful tactics in its combats with rowboats filled with humans trying to kill it. (A sperm whale, after all, has the largest brain of any animal on earth, including humans, so it is presumably a relatively intelligent being.) Before Mocha Dick was finally slain in 1838 he was alleged to have survived at least one hundred attempts on his life, sometimes involving him turning upon and smashing the boats which pursued him. He was finally killed while trying to defend a wounded female sperm whale. Old Mocha Dick reminds me a little of the Apache hero Geronimo: both of them fought a righteous fight, even though it was doomed to ultimate failure.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The reason why men risked their lives to hunt these beings is that the sperm whale, <i>Physeter macrocephalus</i>, has a body suffused with very high quality oil. The bulbous “case” of a sperm whale’s head alone may contain 500 gallons of the stuff, with the blubber, when rendered, yielding very much more. The whale apparently uses a head full of fine oil in part as a lens for focusing sound, as it is the <i>loudest</i> animal in the world, using blasts of noise for echolocation and to stun or even kill its prey, which in adult males is almost exclusively the deep-sea giant squid. Eventually sperm oil was rendered obsolete by petroleum; which, although of lower quality as a lubricant at the time than high-grade spermaceti, was much more plentiful in the world, and less dangerous and expensive to harvest. But on with the book.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The story is overflowing with symbols, and evokes layer upon layer of meaning. At some levels it is an allegory, and at one level in particular an apocalypse, describing how a kind of great-spirited genius/antichrist (Ahab), overflowing with heroic yet demonic and destructive pride, leads the whole world (the <i>Pequod</i> with its international crew) to its destruction. In this apocalyptic respect it is similar to Golding’s <i>Lord of the Flies</i>. It also resembles the legend of Dr. Faustus, who sells his soul to the diabolical Mephistopheles (symbolized by the Parsi oracle and harpooneer Fedallah) to obtain his heart’s desire. It also reflects a few elements of <i>King Lear. </i>Also there are numerous references to the biblical Book of Jonah. But probably the one character in all of literature that Ahab is most compared to is the fallen angel Lucifer, once God’s right-hand man, in Milton’s <i>Paradise Lost</i>. The unfolding story itself is more about Ahab than Ishmael, as the obsessional old sea captain gradually realizes that he is driven by Destiny or the fate of his own character to attempt what is hopelessly impossible, to defy the highest, irresistible power just for the sake of asserting his own dignity, or at least his own rejection of a reality, an order of things, that he has come to hate as unjust and the cause of everything bad in his life.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One other character, aside from Ishmael, Ahab, and the Whale Itself, plays a major, central role in the story, and that is the first officer of the <i>Pequod</i>, Mr. Starbuck. As I’ve already mentioned, there are no women on the ship, and almost none in the entire story; and largely because of this, Starbuck, more than anyone else, displays the feminine aspect, the feminine spirit, of humanity. He is brave, and has slain many whales with his own lance, yet he is sensitive, quiet, and devoutly religious. He leaves home for years at a time to pursue his profession, but he deeply misses his wife and son the whole time, and prays for them. He is the only person on the ship who dares, or has the wisdom, to oppose the Captain in his quest to kill Moby Dick. He repeatedly tries to talk him out of it, and on one occasion even seriously considers murdering him for the good of everyone else…yet he is too gentle, too passive, to actually save the world. He also is restrained by a sense of duty, and he dutifully obeys his commanding officer even though he knows him to be wrong, and possibly even evil. In a way, I think, he symbolizes Ahab’s conscience, which is a good conscience, yet which is insufficiently robust and forceful to restrain Ahab from his quest for vengeance and impious self-justification. A whole book could probably be written just on Starbuck. Probably it’s already been written.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There is so much to investigate, and so much to remark upon in <i>Moby-Dick</i>. Some symbols are so enigmatic that one wonders if Melville himself really could articulate what he was trying to convey by them. Consider the seaman Bulkington, for example. He is a tall, well-built, good-looking, and quiet man who is a great favorite among his shipmates. He returns to Nantucket after a years-long whaling voyage, and almost immediately signs onto the crew of the <i>Pequod</i> for another years-long voyage. Yet almost as soon as the <i>Pequod</i> leaves port he apparently falls overboard or jumps overboard and is never seen again. Why? Mysteries lurk throughout the story.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But the biggest, baddest symbol of them all is the Whale Himself, Moby Dick. And with all due respect to Mr. Van Vactor, I will explain what I think he (the white whale, not Mr. Van Vactor) stands for. That is the purpose of the next installment.<br /><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VEycY7ztE70/VzeuuplhVII/AAAAAAAABuw/BtW9agnPJ8EEouy2Pg1IIkbuSlZy-L5CQCLcB/s1600/moby%2Bdick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VEycY7ztE70/VzeuuplhVII/AAAAAAAABuw/BtW9agnPJ8EEouy2Pg1IIkbuSlZy-L5CQCLcB/s400/moby%2Bdick.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><b>APPENDIX: DAGGOO AND THE QUESTION OF RACISM</b></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Following is Melville/Ishmael’s introduction to Daggoo, one of the men of African ancestry aboard the <i>Pequod</i>. Judge for yourself whether this account could be called racist or anti-black (and remember that this description was published in 1851, a time when slavery was still legal in the southern USA).</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">Third among the harpooneers was Daggoo, a gigantic, coal-black negro-savage, with a lion-like tread—an Ahasuerus [i.e., Xerxes] to behold. Suspended from his ears were two golden hoops, so large that the sailors called them ring-bolts, and would talk of securing the top-sail halyards to them. In his youth Daggoo had voluntarily shipped on board of a whaler, lying in a lonely bay on his native coast. And never having been anywhere in the world but in Africa, Nantucket, and the pagan harbors most frequented by whalemen; and having now led for many years the bold life of the fishery in the ships of owners uncommonly heedful of what manner of men they shipped; Daggoo retained all his barbaric virtues, and erect as a giraffe, moved about the decks in all the pomp of six feet five in his socks. There was a corporeal humility in looking up at him; and a white man standing before him seemed a white flag come to beg truce of a fortress. Curious to tell, this imperial negro, Ahasuerus Daggoo, was the Squire of little Flask [the third mate], who looked like a chess-man beside him.</blockquote><div class="p1">Human equality without sameness: an ideal that some modern ideologues seem incapable of comprehending.&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><br /><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-32853629050985825712016-05-07T02:40:00.000-07:002016-05-08T15:14:02.056-07:00How Could a Free-Thinking Buddhist Monk Vote for Donald Trump?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p3"><span class="s1">&nbsp;</span><span class="s2">"<i>The whole history of the world is summed up in the fact that, when nations are strong, they are not always just, and when they wish to be just, they are no longer strong.</i>" —Winston Churchill</span></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; Yeah, yeah, I know. This isn’t Dharma, and if it’s philosophy, it’s of a very crude and shallow sort. It is, however, still challenging established views, and possibly even favoring an outwardly better world. Don’t worry: It will be all over soon. Nothing lasts. Everything is impermanent. So there—some Dharma, right off the bat.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I’ve mentioned elsewhere that I lost most of my interest in politics, most of what little there was to begin with, after realizing that what is good and right from an <i>ethical</i> point of view is not necessarily good and right from a <i>political</i> point of view. If we assume that the primary purpose of government is to ensure the prosperity and well-being of the people it governs, then sometimes favoring one’s own people and being unfair or uncharitable toward others is the sound, valid choice from a political perspective.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The classic, most obvious example is war. From the perspective of ethics, particularly Buddhist ethics, war is mass murder, period. War is always a bad thing. It is morally superior to die than deliberately to kill. But if the purpose of a government is to protect its own people, then war may be an absolute political necessity. The position of the Allies during the Second World War is a case in point. If we didn’t fight against the Axis Powers, then our country, and the world at large, might be devoid of Jews, blacks, and other “inferior subhumans” right now, with furthermore no constitutional rights for anyone.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Also, if we consider the history of classical Rome, we see that the political policies of Rome with regard to its own citizens were, relatively speaking, extraordinarily fair, especially at first before tyrannical Caesars took control, although quite ruthless toward outsiders, especially towards perceived rivals and enemies. Rome mercilessly conquered much of the Western world, sometimes perpetrating atrocities like the Third Punic War, yet at the same time introduced to the West what were extremely advanced, liberal, effective systems of law, governance, education, etc.. The UK and the USA also became great powers, for good and for otherwise, as a result of such ruthless actions as the UK’s Opium Wars and the USA’s war on Mexico in 1848, in which we essentially beat up the Mexicans, invaded their country and capital city, and stole from them Texas, California, and everything in between. Although the UK eventually returned Hong Kong to China, few Americans suggest that we should give Texas, California, etc. back to Mexico. Although the Mexican population of the Southwest USA is apparently increasing, which I guess is only fair.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So I have reconciled myself philosophically to the idea that politics is to some degree its own sphere, and, like nature itself, is necessarily to some degree amoral. The first priority of a government should be the prosperity and well-being of its own people, with other considerations, like the well-being of everyone else, being still good and valid, but not to the extent that the nation itself is significantly harmed by it. I say all this by way of introduction, although it may not be in reality a major consideration in what follows.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Perhaps I should say here that it looks like I won’t vote Donald Trump for president. I won’t vote for Hillary Clinton either. It looks like I won’t vote for anyone, unless by absentee ballot, largely because I will probably be living in rural Burma next November. But if I were in America at that time, and if I did vote, and if Donald Trump were running for president as a Republican or Independent or whatever, I would very probably vote for him as America’s only really viable option. If Trump weren’t running, then if I did vote it would be to throw my vote away on whomever is the Libertarian candidate. So I do favor Donald Trump (even if he wouldn’t favor the likes of me), and endorse him to some degree, although it is mainly due to a lack of anyone better.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I have never voted for a Republican president. I consider Ted Cruz, Trump’s only remaining rival within the Republican party, to be at least as bad a choice as Hillary Clinton. (Ha, since writing that I learned that Cruz has dropped out. All academic now.) The Republicans have tended to favor militarism, Bible-thumping, tax breaks for the rich, and gratuitous, excessive Machiavellianism way too much for me ever to have endorsed them. As a young man I once resolved that if Ronald Reagan’s face ever appeared on money I would emigrate to Australia. But one reason why I like Trump is because the Republican Party itself hates and fears him. I’ll soon get back to that point.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I really don’t care very much if Trump builds a wall to keep Mexicans out or prevents Muslims from immigrating to America. I suppose the USA has the right to guard its borders and filter who comes in. (I would like it if he promised Edward Snowden a fair trial if he returns to the USA, though.) I don’t care all that much if he is a racist or a sexist, or even if personally he is a colossal jerk. I do not, however, consider him to be <i>evil</i>, or “literally Adolf Hitler,” and I consider it extremely unlikely that if he were elected he would overthrow the US Constitution and have himself declared Dictator for Life, as some lefties seem to expect of him. His actual policies are almost irrelevant—which may seem ridiculous or bizarre to some Americans who see the upcoming presidential election as the climax of a kind of Western ethical crisis. As mentioned above, ethics are not the primary point at issue; and professional politicians exploit ethics in a Machiavellian manner anyhow, further demonstrating the ultimate pragmatic amorality of successful politics.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R-uabxUufuw/Vy1CBQ4Vg4I/AAAAAAAABuU/jhODCJ21-HEixY2kz70tyOhF6C8hFJTowCLcB/s1600/donald-trump-a-1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R-uabxUufuw/Vy1CBQ4Vg4I/AAAAAAAABuU/jhODCJ21-HEixY2kz70tyOhF6C8hFJTowCLcB/s400/donald-trump-a-1024.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Donald J. Trump, master of "the American Dream"</i></span></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So following are the main reasons why I (provisionally, for the time being) endorse Donald Trump for US President. Even if you despise the man, at least you may see that not only stupid hicks and neo-Nazis can favor him. Consider this an anthropological study, or a case of pragmatism taking precedence over moral ideology.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>Trump is filthy rich, in addition to having cojones and being a political outsider, and consequently he kisses the ass of nobody. <span class="s2">Most politicians in the current American political scene are stuck in a morbid system in which their Party and their financial backers get strings attached and thereby limit the powers of whomever they buy. Obama, for example, after starting as some idealist Great Hope (and I voted for him too), apparently has degenerated into a politically correct puppet. So Trump is relatively independent of this screwed up political system which hampers the effectiveness of its executive officers. The main reason why the Republican Party itself hates and fears Trump is mainly that he won't kiss their collective behind. Nobody can control him the way a professional politician can be controlled; and an obedient puppet is hardly likely to accomplish anything “great,” or even really significant, unless it is significantly for the worse.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>He is the stereotypical “alpha male” who has the force of character to go against the current of the political status quo (like an ever-increasing national debt, let alone corrupt politics) and to make significant changes for the better. It has been human nature for a million years for the majority to support a strong, dominant leader, especially in times of crisis, which we arguably are in nowadays. Few who are familiar with the old <i>Star Trek</i> TV show would argue that Captain James Tiberius Kirk was the right man for the job of commander. And one of the most outstanding qualities of Captain Kirk was an unusually high magnitude and quality of <i>cojones</i>. And Trump, much more than Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders, has this qualification.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>He is a skilled businessman, and since the USA is in an economic mess, it is more likely that he would be able to turn the mess around. What America needs is a skillful chief executive who can drive a shrewd bargain when negotiating treaties and trade agreements, which is something that the US has done badly over the past few decades.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>With regard to his foreign policy he may be farther to the political left than his main rival Hillary Clinton. One of Trump’s policies in particular that I can’t help but like is that he is willing to be on friendlier terms with Russia, whereas Clinton seems intent upon continuing the Cold War. (I happen to like the Russian people, and think our two countries have been enemies for far too long. I agree that we should extend a hand of friendship and be allies if at all possible. The same probably goes for China too, although Russia is more interesting to me, and probably has more common ground with us Americans.) But part of the problem is that the American political machine, as part of its status quo, has been interfering in international politics in a partly successful attempt to get as many countries as possible under US influence, in order to dominate world politics in a kind of Pax Americana; and of course some other countries like Russia and China don’t like this. Better a more or less cooperative community of independent nations with the USA being one of the big guns than a kind of crypto-Empire with America calling the shots—especially if the latter is prohibitively expensive for America. The Obama administration, partly, I assume, due to Obama’s inability or unwillingness to go against the political current (unlike a strong president like JFK), has largely continued with the second Bush administration’s interference in West Asian and North African politics (let alone electronic surveillance of the American people in the name of national security), with calamitous results. A little more of minding our own business could make us more respected and popular in the world, as well as saving money.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>Again, although he’s technically a Republican, the Republican party’s elite hates and fears him, and I am no Republican; and I consider the far right to be just as foolish as the far left, although nowadays in America they are less of a danger to freedom and individual rights.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>Also again, Trump is not a professional politician, and for that reason he is more in a position to think “outside the box,” providing fresh solutions to problems that the professionals, obviously, have been unable to solve. He is, however, a veteran executive officer, and an extremely successful one. It may be that treating American economics as a business problem may be much more effective than relying on professional politicians trying to please their voters and string-holders.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>But one of the most important reasons why I (provisionally) endorse Mr. Trump is that <i>he is not politically correct</i>, and I consider PC to be a dangerous cancer on American society. It is a kind of mandatory hypocrisy, institutionalized dishonesty, in which a person dares not say what he or she really feels for fear of persecution. Furthermore, although many do not realize this, political correctness hysteria is based upon a newish progressive liberal ideology, suffused with so-called Social Justice, Marxism, and third wave feminism, that is rife with pseudoscience, sloppy thinking, and just plain falsehood. Consider, for example, the “progressive” axiom that both genders and all races are naturally exactly the same, with any apparent differences being oppressive cultural constructs. To question this at all, even with scientific evidence, is howled down with shouts of “Racist!” and “Hate speech!” But the idea that the different genders and races naturally have different strengths and weaknesses, and thereby different ways in which they best contribute to society (speaking generally, admitting individual differences), has objective, empirical support; so if that is “sexism” or “racism,” then to that extent sexism and racism are true and valid. Yet I think almost all of those who endorse such “hate speech” would agree that everyone is equally human, and equally entitled to equal human rights, respect, and opportunity. So, we Americans are in the midst of a kind of culture war, and I consider Trump to be more on the side of empiricism, reason, and common sense, and more against a philosophically flimsy neo-liberal ideology.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Consider the following long quote, which is actually from a vehemently anti-Trump article on the website nymag.com:&nbsp;</span></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s2">For the white working class, having had their morals roundly mocked, their religion deemed primitive, and their economic prospects decimated, now find their very gender and race, indeed the very way they talk about reality, described as a kind of problem for the nation to overcome. This is just one aspect of what Trump has masterfully signaled as “political correctness” run amok, or what might be better described as the newly rigid progressive passion for racial and sexual equality of outcome, rather than the liberal aspiration to mere equality of opportunity.</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s2">Much of the newly energized left has come to see the white working class not as allies but primarily as bigots, misogynists, racists, and homophobes, thereby condemning those often at the near-bottom rung of the economy to the bottom rung of the culture as well. A struggling white man in the heartland is now told to “check his privilege” by students at Ivy League colleges. Even if you agree that the privilege exists, it’s hard not to empathize with the object of this disdain. These working-class communities, already alienated, hear — how can they not? — the glib and easy dismissals of “white straight men” as the ultimate source of all our woes. They smell the condescension and the broad generalizations about them — all of which would be repellent if directed at racial minorities — and see themselves, in Hoffer’s words, “disinherited and injured by an unjust order of things.”</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s2">And so they wait, and they steam, and they lash out.</span></blockquote><div class="p1">The end of the first paragraph is indicative of what I just touched upon—a specious pseudoscientific ideology being forced upon the American people. The way it works is this: The ideology insists, based upon its own wishful thinking rather than upon empirical evidence, that both biological genders and all races are the same in every way, except for unfortunately undeniable, obvious physical differences. Consequently, ergo, if there is not exact sameness in career choices and material success, then there must be, <i>ex hypothesi</i>, oppression and a lack of equal opportunity. So things that men, and especially white men, do better than others on average, are seen as evidence or even proof of patriarchal oppression. Men come to be discriminated against in order to handicap them sufficiently that everyone else does everything as successfully as they do. Which of course weakens the country, but America is seen by the far left as a malignant force to be taken down anyhow. And many, many Americans are becoming thoroughly fed up with this, and are turning to Donald Trump as their champion. And they are not all ignorant hicks, and they are not all white racists and misogynists, and they are not all from the conservative right.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Most professional politicians in America, especially those tending toward the left, are effectively crippled, or at least hobbled, by PC hysteria. I have no doubt that President Obama is basically a good man, and he’s obviously an intelligent one; but from being the idealist Great Hope he has declined into a political correctness puppet who is continually making a public fool of himself in order not to offend anybody. A relatively recent example of this occurred when a 14-year-old boy, a smartass kid who happened to be a Muslim, perpetrated a bomb hoax at his school. He took the insides out of an electric alarm clock and put them into a kind of suitcase, along with some other wires and stuff, so that it looked very much like a bomb. (He claimed to have “built a clock,” although simply taking the insides out of a case and putting them into a different case could hardly be called building a clock.) He then took this “clock” to school, where a teacher advised him not to carry it around from class to class, as people might get the wrong idea. The kid deliberately disregarded this advice, and not only carried it around, but provocatively was plugging the strange object into electrical outlets in a classroom and setting the alarm to go off in class. A teacher got worried and informed the principal, and the principal, out of concern for the school’s security, informed the police, and the police came to investigate and detained the bomb hoaxer—since, after all, the kid really had committed a crime, like mischievously bringing a fake bomb into an airport. Immediately the liberal media declared the school’s reaction to be politically incorrect Islamophobia, which caused a deluge of obsequious fawning on the 14-year-old provocateur. (His elder sister allegedly had already been temporarily expelled from school for a previous bomb threat.) The climax came when President Obama himself weakly and foolishly contacted the kid, praised his cool "clock," and invited him to the White House for a friendly visit. That is political correctness hysteria at the highest level, and a case that made Obama look like a fool around the world, kissing the backside of a teenage Islamic bomb hoaxer. Trump is unlikely to play such games.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So one of the biggest reasons why I readily accept the idea of Trump being president is that I despise PC culture as a disgraceful retreat into regressive, mandatory groupthink and, if it consolidates its power, into eventual inquisitions, witch hunts, and rampant persecution of any who stand in its way. And at present, Trump is America’s greatest hope for an effective counter response.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Before abandoning, for the time, the topic of “mandatory groupthink,” I will point out that if a cultural ideology were uplifting, strengthening, mostly true, and relatively “enlightened,” then I might be able to endorse its encouragement in a society, for the good of that society. But the ideology fueling PC is, as I’ve already mentioned, philosophically feeble, being based not upon empirical evidence or logic so much as on Gender Studies pseudoscience and sloppy, wishful thinking. Also it promotes intolerance, mass hysteria, and civil strife. At any rate I have little choice but to favor the political right in this case, otherwise before long I may be persecuted in America for being a Buddhist monk, thereby defying PC by appropriating Asian culture. (<span class="s3">←</span>I wish this were a joke) Ironically, the political right in America has become the defender of classical liberal values abandoned by the left. It has also become, very interestingly, a haven for a new breed of counterculture, a new movement of intellectual rebels thirsting for freedom from a repressive system.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This whole situation is not so divorced from genuine Dharma as many people might think. Freedom, as well as Truth, could be called my religion; a synonym for Nirvana is “Liberation”; and at present freedom of thought and expression is under attack not so much by fundamentalist Christians on the right as by fundamentalist regressives on the left, a.k.a. Cultural Marxists, a.k.a. social justice warriors. For those of you who are doubtful of what is going on in this regard, you might find interesting the linked <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCcp36n2cDg&amp;index=3&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA" target="_blank">video</a></b> of a discussion of political correctness on the campus of the University of Massachusetts in Amherst, with ultraliberals literally screaming in hysteria in an attempt to shut the whole discussion down. This is going on all over the country, not just at UMass Amherst. It’s going on at Trump rallies also, with most of the hatred, hostility, and howling hysteria coming from anti-Trump protesters on the political far left, as far as I have seen.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>&gt;</b>I may as well add that to some degree my preference of D. Trump to H. Clinton is simply a matter of personal taste. I would prefer a Putin to a Merkel as the strong, fearless leader of my country, and not only for pragmatic reasons. Putin comes closer to Captain Kirk also. In the war on testicles being waged in the West, with Western Europe and Canada already having succumbed, and Hillary C. the leader of the American Anti-Testicles Party, I have little choice but to vote in favor of cojones.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; All in all, I do not consider any of the candidates for US President to be anywhere near the position of Best Possible Person for the Job. And although Trump is clearly a huge gamble, since nobody really knows how good or bad of a president he would be, <i>only he has even the potential</i> to accomplish anything really “great.” Hillary Clinton’s election would be a practical guarantee of more of the same stuff, a continuation of a status quo leading to greater national debt, continued corruption and hypocrisy in politics, and more dangerous and harmful PC hysteria. Only Trump has any chance at all of correcting this, and I am willing to take that risk for the sake of my beloved country of origin. (That is one symptom of having cojones: a willingness to take risks.) I love America.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Putting the situation extremely simply, Mr. Trump is the only candidate with the strength and the independence to swim against the current of a pathologically corrupt political system. President Obama may have had that strength at first, but before long he was swept along by the current of events and the momentum of the established political machine. And Hillary Clinton apparently has zero intention of swimming against the current; she is the representative of the establishment, she is its personification, its marionette, with plenty of strings attached to keep her in line.</div><div class="p2"><span class="s2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Recently it occurred to me that the SJWs, if they existed in the 1930s, would certainly, <i>certainly</i> be on the side of the appeasers for Hitler—you know, ideological supporters of Neville Chamberlain with his idea that if we just give Hitler what he wants, he'll calm down and become a nice person. They'd spit on “war mongers” like Winston Churchill for insisting from the beginning that Hitler must be resisted. They'd hysterically scream and rave in favor of appeasing Hitler, hating the guts of politically incorrect, “hate speech”-spewing resisters. I betcha they'd be exactly like that. They’re already like that with regard to appeasing radical Islamists.</span> As I said at the beginning of this discussion, or propaganda tract, or whatever it is, cold, hard facts must take precedence over virtuous ideology in the realm of politics if a political entity is to survive and prosper. But really, I do not see the Clinton Democrats as really holding the moral high ground. Trump appears to have non-hypocrisy more on his side at any rate. Plus he probably is not in favor of men dressed like women hanging around in women’s public restrooms.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Getting back to Winston Churchill, just recently I heard a reference to a message that Franklin Roosevelt sent to Churchill just a day before he (Roosevelt) died. I have been unable to locate the exact quote, so I paraphrase it from memory. There was some kind of crisis afoot (remember, this was during WWII), and the dying Roosevelt advised Churchill not to take it too seriously, as crises are continually cropping up in this world, and most of them have a way of working themselves out. That’s a useful thing to bear in mind, I think. We often appear to be racing toward a cliff or brick wall, so it’s easy to prophesy doom; but we humans do have <i>some</i> common sense, and we usually make adjustments sufficient to avert disaster, usually. So fear mongering over the current rise of an ugly political far left and a resultant culture war in the USA, or over a Trump presidential administration, is probably unnecessary, although it can make interesting reading, and it can give some perspective on an alternative point of view.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Those of you who are not Americans (and my blog stats indicate that about half of you are not), may see American cultural upheavals as typical of American silliness and foolishness. For the most part you are correct; although this same silliness is largely the product of freedom of thought, one of the most sacred ideals of the United States, no matter how much that ideal is sometimes trampled. This same freedom that allows howling hysteria over trivial quasi-issues also allows for genius, for genius most readily arises from chaos.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SH9crE61pYs/Vy1DFQPPiXI/AAAAAAAABuc/h-_5DEJMQQgPGzkVgE22xNplsSO4-flhQCLcB/s1600/oat_willie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SH9crE61pYs/Vy1DFQPPiXI/AAAAAAAABuc/h-_5DEJMQQgPGzkVgE22xNplsSO4-flhQCLcB/s400/oat_willie.jpg" width="382" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>...or, vote for Oat Willie</i></span></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p2"><i>The vehemently anti-Trump article quoted above:</i><span class="s4"> <a href="http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2016/04/america-tyranny-donald-trump.html"><span class="s1">http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2016/04/america-tyranny-donald-trump.html</span></a></span></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>NOTE: In order to forestall political bickering back and forth, ad nauseam, I do not intend to publish comments to this post. Deal with it.</i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><br /><div class="p7"><span class="s2"></span><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-81798789296331207312016-04-30T16:26:00.000-07:002016-05-02T22:32:43.272-07:00Facts and Feelings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; </b>I feel slightly apologetic, sort of, for the direction this blog has taken here towards the end. Part of the situation is that all I really want to post before ending this, in addition to a concluding farewell and benediction, is an essay on the spiritual symbolism of Melville’s <i>Moby-Dick</i>, a book which I am presently re-reading. But the going is slow, and I’m reading only about twenty pages per day, partly because I read <i>Moby-Dick </i>just a few years ago, so it’s more like review than fresh discovery, and the thing is 500 pages long. So in the meantime I continue to write about what is of greatest interest to me lately, which is what the new leftist and feminist political orientation is doing to 21st-century Western Civilization. I consider it to be an extraordinarily important issue from a secular and worldly point of view; and most people cannot speak as freely as I can on the subject due to the hazard of social persecution. This is one of the advantages of renouncing the world: I am allowed greater freedom of thought and expression than the average inhabitant of the Matrix.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In the previous post I discussed the idea that men and women are naturally, biologically different from each other, both physically and psychologically; and that one of many ways in which we differ psychologically is that men, generally speaking, tend to be more objective than women, and women tend to be more subjective than men. This is neither good nor bad. It is not a sign of superiority or inferiority on either side. It is just the way it is. Both objectivity and subjectivity have their own peculiar strengths and weaknesses, so it is good for both to be fairly represented in a society, for the sake of healthy balance.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One particular way in which this psychological difference (not the <i>only</i> psychological difference, mind you) manifests itself is that men are rather more likely to consider facts to be more important than feelings, whereas women appear more likely to consider feelings more important than facts. Any man who has been utterly confounded by a heated bombardment of non sequiturs and conveniently adjusted memories in a disagreement with a woman may vouch for this. But women in particular may take issue with such an observation, so I will offer a pretty obvious recent example of what I’m talking about.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In the objective world of the so-called patriarchy, the gender of a human being has been a simple and clearcut issue: if one’s nucleated cells contain paired X chromosomes, then technically one is a female, period. And if each has an X and a Y, then one is male, again period. This is very objective, based upon empirical observation. If one considers physical morphology to be more important than genetics, then still the presence of testicles and a penis have historically been pretty conclusive proof that a person is male, with different diagnostic traits, like a vagina, indicating femaleness. However, with the new social movement of progressive liberalism, which is suffused with feminist ideology and feminine thinking, a person’s gender depends upon <i>feelings</i>. If you feel like a woman, then you’re really a woman, and if you feel like a man, you’re really a man, regardless of such physical, objective trivia as DNA and sexual organs. Feelings (plus a feelings-driven ideology) are more important than mere objective facts.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Incidentally, another way of making the objective/subjective distinction between men and women was told to me by a very strong-spirited woman a few years ago: She said, or at least implied very strongly, that men are more likely to want to be <i>right</i>, while women are more likely to want to be <i>connected</i>. Like many Western women, she thought, or rather felt, that being connected with others was totally superior to being merely right. But I suppose that the best scenario would involve being right <i>and</i> connected—which might require men and women being on the same side in a kind of symbiosis, which is after all the way we were meant to be, but which has been breaking down quite a lot over the past few decades due largely to a lack of appreciation for a diversity of attitudes.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Yet another way of stating the objectivity/subjectivity distinction, which I heard on a video just recently (about why men make better chess players), is that “men are good at systematizing; women are good at empathizing.” This may all be anathema to political intersectional feminists, but I suppose more spiritually oriented people might be able to appreciate the idea that the male “spirit” and its feminine counterpart really are not the same. They evolved to be different because men’s roles and women’s roles for a million years have been quite different in many respects, so that our approach to life is naturally, correspondingly different; yet at the same time they are evolved to combine together in male/female relationships in a positive and potentially beautiful symbiosis.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So anyway, what happens if a feminized society is dominated by an ideology that frequently disdains objective truth, or rejects it if it contradicts the established dogma? To some degree Christianity has been like this in the West, especially in the Middle Ages, so we can have some idea at least of what it entails. But the Middle Ages were before science took over and society became very finely tuned and dependent upon intricate objective discernment to keep everything going. &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But one of the main factors that caused western civilization to become as powerful as it is, and essentially to dominate the world, is its <i>objectivity</i>. Like it or not, men built western civilization, along with democratic social systems, science, and most technology; and they have kept it running since the beginning. Men are naturally good at this, with men of the white race possibly being the best at it, since, after all, they’re the ones who invented it. Western civilization is built on the foundational realization that facts don’t give a damn about feelings, and facts generally win out in the long run. To acknowledge this has been key to the material success of Western culture.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I could continue rambling onwards in this direction, and originally intended it, with possibly even some discussion of other psychological differences (like men tending to prefer freedom to security, and women tending the other way). I could point out that timeless male virtues—such as fearlessness, unflinching determination, self-reliance, willingness to take risks, love of a good challenge, audacity, austerity, strength, and a deep sense of honor, in addition to dispassionate objectivity—are just as important and valuable as the ones progressive feminists are insisting upon. I was even intending to discuss the old theorem in History that sexual “decadence,” including the rise of eunuchs into social prominence, is a telltale sign of the decline of a civilization. But my heart just isn’t in it. So I will just bring up one choice little issue that I thought of recently, with regard to the new feelings-oriented interpretation of gender, and its potential effect on Theravada Buddhism, especially in the West.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As many of you know, one of the ways that liberal egalitarianism has made itself known in Western Buddhism is by its vehement, outspoken insistence that the Bhikkhuni Sangha, the order of fully ordained nuns, be revived, for the sake of gender equality, since it died out centuries ago. To those who are most knowledgeable on the subject, i.e. the monastics who have extensively studied Vinaya (the ancient Buddhist code of monastic discipline and ecclesiastical regulation), the revival of the Bhikkhuni order is a matter of technical validity, i.e. whether it can be done without invalidating the procedure by breaking the rules of the order; however most of the people insisting upon it see it as a matter of social justice, considering any technical obstacles to be dishonest quibbles, and with many seeing a kind of patriarchal conspiracy behind the reluctance of the overwhelming majority of the Sangha to defer to postmodern social justice principles in the management of an ancient and very conservative tradition. The debate very often takes the form of feelings despising facts.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But let us assume, for the sake of argument, that the Bhikkhuni Sangha is somehow revived and accepted with the consent of the entire order, including the traditional, conservative Asian Buddhist monastics. The next logical step, if we continue to defer to principles of politically correct social justice, is to allow the ordination of transgender monastics—that is, nuns who are biologically male, and monks who are biologically female. This is flatly rejected as invalid and unallowable in the texts of monastic discipline, but the ancient textual tradition itself is disdained by the postmodern Western social justice people anyway, so that will simply be another obstacle to be overcome by them, another set of facts to be trumped by feelings.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Do you see what I am getting at here? What do you suppose will be the effect of insisting to traditional Asian Buddhists that a woman who <i>feels</i> that she is a man must be accepted as a male monk? A Burmese lady recently informed me that they would “flip.” Yet that really is the next logical step for Western liberal social justice in its ideological browbeating of traditional Theravada Buddhism.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It has been said many times that the West really needs Dhamma. That appears to be obviously true, even if few in the West perceive this need. But with “progressive” liberalism running amuck in its self-righteous insistence that even ancient traditions must conform to its dictates, I think Dhamma, in the form of Theravada Buddhism at least, may be better off without the West. By the time the Western ideologues are done with it, it won’t really be Theravada anymore anyway. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9ThfJ7-llXk/VyQIzWnkZ_I/AAAAAAAABtw/22bwadhmnBgd8-N82tLigwvcvrE_Xo70gCLcB/s1600/kate%2Bbush%2Bsiyl%2B2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9ThfJ7-llXk/VyQIzWnkZ_I/AAAAAAAABtw/22bwadhmnBgd8-N82tLigwvcvrE_Xo70gCLcB/s400/kate%2Bbush%2Bsiyl%2B2.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-58472077063000861582016-04-23T15:08:00.000-07:002016-04-27T21:17:24.300-07:00Postmodernism vs. Empiricism<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Just a few years ago I was living under a rock and almost completely oblivious to a relatively recent intellectual movement called Postmodernism. A little over a year ago I somehow became aware that “postmodern” didn’t refer simply to the most recent events and trends of the modern world, but something else in particular. I asked a friend of mine who is an architect what postmodernism is, and he gave me his take on postmodern architecture; and shortly afterwards another fellow gave me a copy of <i>Simulations</i> by Jean Baudrillard (author of the book in which Neo stashed his bootlegged computer discs in <i>The Matrix</i>), which I read and found to be almost unintelligible in most parts. So even just a few months ago I was still of the impression that postmodernism was just some kind of intellectual esthetic fashion within Liberal Arts, an effete philosophical art form with some applications in architecture, art, and literature, but still quite on the fringe of mainstream culture, something for people who read Foucault, wear berets, and actually take abstract art seriously.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Then very recently, during my fascinated, occasionally horrified binge of studying recent developments in Western “progressive” liberalism, I learned that recent “third wave” feminism, along with the new liberalism in general, has adopted a fundamental postmodern tenet with regard to the culturally conditioned nature of truth, and thus of virtually everything else. Thus postmodernism is plunging right into the heart of Western society. And so I feel the urge to write about it.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As far as I could tell from the dense, convoluted, self-indulgent, and almost unintelligible prose of Baudrillard’s book, he considered symbolism to have reached a point in Western civilization where it no longer represents anything but itself. Symbols are purely artificial, yet nevertheless have become the highest reality of our society. Postmodernism on the whole seems to endorse this view to some degree: truth is merely relative, and created by society; therefore, we create truth to suit ourselves, or rather to suit whatever cultural positions we consider to be proper, or expedient.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As a Buddhist I can accept this to some degree. Buddhism teaches two truths, conventional and ultimate; and I consider any “truth” that can be put into words or otherwise symbolized to be merely conventional. The “reality” of the ordinary person is also merely conventional and not ultimate. Also, I consider it very possible that our beliefs radically condition the world as we see it, and may even alter the empirical world accordingly.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; My acceptance of this aspect of postmodern philosophy goes beyond the limitations of Theravada Buddhist philosophy, as I can accept it more than a devout Abhidhamma scholar possibly could. I can seriously entertain the idea that we create our own reality practically from scratch; so that an alien being radically different from us in its perception of reality might somehow be in the same room with us, yet it would not see us, nor we it. (This is getting into the realm of philosophical idealism, which admittedly has gone very much out of fashion in the West ever since scientific realism became almost a monoculture, metaphysically and ideologically.) I wouldn’t insist upon that point of view, but I do consider it to be a possibility.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In such a state of things, it would be our similarity as people that allows us to interact in this world. Although we human beings have many differences, with each of us being unique, still the similarities far outweigh the differences, psychologically as well as physically. In other words, it is our shared human nature that allows us to agree on as much as we do, one with the other.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The point at which I deviate from this relativistic attitude of postmodernism, and at which “hard” science in general also deviates from it, is where the postmoderns declare that this same human nature is itself purely a social construct. (I suspect that to some degree this belief of the postmoderns is derived from Karl Marx, as he also ignored natural human instincts, and as Baudrillard in his book seemed incapable of keeping Marxism distinct from metaphysical and epistemological issues. This tossing together salad-wise of philosophy and social theory seems to be a characteristic of much of European philosophy in the past century.)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This is rather a tricky issue, since ultimately I consider objective truth to be an artificial construct; yet we really do appear to be born with innate human nature which restricts the range of what we are able to perceive or create without being insane to a clinically significant degree. In other words, we apparently have to have certain similarities even to be born into the same empirical universe. Objectively and empirically, if we look at the evidence scientifically, we see clearly enough that Marx was wrong, that most 20th-century psychologists were wrong, and that we humans are a species of animal as laden with animal instincts as any other mammal.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A classic and very typical example of this was given by Charles Darwin in his monumental and ground-breaking <i>The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals</i>, namely: When we are surprised, our eyebrows go up and our mouth drops open. Why? Is this simply a cultural construct that somehow has become universal in the human race, or could it be called an animal instinct in us humans? (It’s more than just a knee-jerk reflex, as emotion is the trigger of it, the emotion itself arguably being a kind of animal instinct.) Imagine that you are a stone age hunter-gatherer a hundred thousand years ago, you are walking alone down a forest path, and suddenly you hear a twig snap in the underbrush nearby. To react naturally with the aforementioned symptoms of surprise would have real survival value: the eyebrows go up to help you open your eyes more widely, thereby increasing your peripheral vision and allowing you to see danger more easily. And your mouth drops open to allow you to stop breathing through your nose and start breathing through your mouth, which in humans makes less noise and allows you to hear danger more easily. (Darwin points out that a panting dog who is suddenly surprised does the reverse: he stops panting and starts breathing through his nose, since in dogs that way makes less noise.)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; We humans, from a biological point of view, are laden with these kinds of instincts, generally speaking. There will be exceptions to the rule, but even so it is human nature for us to prefer sweet food to bitter; to prefer flowery smells before we reach puberty, to prefer musky smells when sexually mature, and to start preferring flowery smells again in old age; to dislike slimy substances or small multilegged creatures getting onto us; to shout or scream in alarm when something really bad or frightening suddenly happens; etc. I have even read that the human brain actually has a snake recognition center, thereby presenting a physiological basis for a common human fear (or at least wariness) of snakes. All of this had real survival value to our prehistoric ancestors, again going with a scientific perspective. To believe that a human mind is a blank tablet at birth, and that <i>all</i> our emotions and seemingly innate human tendencies are purely social constructs, betrays a profound ignorance of basic human nature.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This is not to say that we are entirely driven by instinct, or that we cannot counteract some of our instinctive drives via cultural conditioning. We are no longer in the stone age, and the modification of some of our natural drives is quite necessary. But even some behaviors that may appear to be purely artificial have a basis in instinct. To give a nonhuman example, few people would deny that the domesticated cat has a hunting instinct. Kittens chasing and pouncing on balls or each other are clearly acting out this instinct. But still the hunting instinct may be reinforced, as when the mother cat teaches her kittens to kill, or suppressed, as when a kitten is punished for trying to catch the family gerbil, or by simply lacking opportunities to hunt. We human beings also are born with instincts which can be culturally reinforced, suppressed, or modified. Our language may appear to be a purely social artifact, yet we do have speech centers in the brain, and even the babbling of babies follows a kind of proto-grammar which, along with a human eagerness to learn and practice talking, instinctively ensures that almost all humans learn how to speak <i>a</i> language, though not any particular one. Instinctive human drives are well documented by countless reputable scientists, and should not be controversial except to those whose ideology compels them to reject this.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Enter 21st-century Liberal Studies (including much of what now is called Cultural Anthropology), and third wave feminist Gender Studies in particular. For reasons of their own, the followers of these ideological fields of study have largely adopted the same postmodern, pseudoscientific idea of the blank tablet that helped Marxism to fail as a viable system in the 20th century—any system that ignores or denies fundamental human nature is bound to be a bad fit for humanity and unstable in the long run. (This is not to say that Marx himself was a postmodernist. He was simply an intellectual who was ignorant of human nature—including the power of innate greed to fuel an economy—and of cognitive science, which did not yet exist in his day. He was also under the spell of Hegel, who wrote masses of verbiage even more elaborately incomprehensible than Baudrillard ever did.)&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The way in which so-called “third wave” feminism has adopted postmodernism, which apparently is in vogue in the humanities to a degree I had not suspected even a few months ago, is to adopt this artificiality of truth, and of human behavior, to declare that gender itself is purely culturally conditioned, that gender has zero basis in biological human nature.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This idea or ideology, like the denial of instinctive human nature in general, is essentially pseudoscience, debunked over and over again by scientific studies, not to mention careful introspection. Way back in the 1980’s I read a book entitled <i>The Tangled Wing: Biological Constraints on the Human Spirit</i>, by Melvin Konner. He described a study by psychologists in which children were raised in a gender-neutral environment, with boys and girls being treated essentially the same since infancy. Even under such conditions, the researchers found that there were some clear differences between the boys and girls with regard to their behavior: girls still much preferred playing with dolls, and boys were much more likely to prefer rough play and machinelike playthings such as toy trucks.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Similar studies have been conducted in the 21st century, especially with infants too young to have been culturally conditioned. Baby girls, even if they are too young to play with them, show significantly more interest in doll-like objects, while baby boys show more interest in objects like toy trucks. Interestingly, this kind of study has been conducted with chimpanzees and at least two species of monkey, and the results are similar: girl chimps and monkeys prefer dolls and faces, and boy chimps and monkeys prefer mechanical objects. (This is not a scientific paper, so I’m not bothering to include bibliographical references; although you can pick up some details on the toy preference experiments in publications by Gad Saad.) These differences are attributed mainly to prenatal testosterone levels, and their effects on the human brain.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It should not be too difficult to see how a liking for dolls could be more or less instinctive in females: It is a manifestation of a mothering instinct and a fascination for nurturing babies. It is quite natural for women to be more interested in babies than men are, especially considering that for most of the existence of the human race, up until the last century, raising children was one of a woman’s primary responsibilities in almost every culture.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The liking of machine-like objects in young boys is maybe less obvious, but for that very reason more interesting to me. Based upon my many observations of the human race, it seems fairly obvious to me that men tend to be more <i>objective</i>, and women more <i>subjective</i>, speaking generally, in terms of average trends. Men are more interested in manipulating objects, like figuring out how to make better hunting weapons, while women seem more interested in interpersonal relations. Thus it is no surprise that men tend to be more interested in fixing machines, and women are often much better at public relations and learning new languages. A woman may make a better family physician due to a natural tendency toward compassion and a better bedside manner; yet men tend to make better surgeons, since a surgeon’s job is to treat a human body like an object, like a machine to be fixed. I would guess that most surgeons are men, even in societies in which most family doctors are women.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But this is all politically incorrect of course, because it goes against the preferred ideology. Even plain facts are suppressed in the West nowadays as a result of what is called “cultural Marxism”: sacrificing empiricism and even sometimes reason itself at the altar of postmodern ideology. This is what happened in the glory days of political Marxism also; for example Lysenko’s theories of heredity were endorsed in the USSR for years, despite their conflict with internationally accepted empirical science, because they were somehow more in harmony with Marxist ideology—which eventually turned into an embarrassing fiasco, effectively sabotaging Soviet agriculture, since denying facts for the sake of political correctness is to deny empirical reality, which eventually leads to trouble.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Nowadays it is politically correct to speak of sexist discrimination when trying to account for the fact that there are many more men than women in hard science and technology fields. Even when affirmative action is applied and women have the social advantage in getting an engineering job, still there are many more men. The feminist ideology blames an oppressive patriarchy for this, but a major reason is simply that men are more interested in such technical fields, being naturally more object-oriented. (This is also one reason for the notorious “pay gap”: highly technical and object-oriented jobs such as metallurgical engineering, along with dangerous jobs such as crab fishing in the Bering Sea, are simply less attractive to women despite the fact that they pay well—not so much because women are ostracized, but more because most of them just don’t want to do it, in accordance with innate feminine human nature.)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Setting aside engineering, let’s look at a field that I have never heard a feminist complaining about: auto mechanics. Very few people would deny that fixing cars is almost entirely monopolized by men. I do not remember ever seeing a female professional auto mechanic. Why is this? Two obvious answers come to mind.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 1. There is a patriarchal conspiracy to prevent women from making a living by fixing cars.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 2. Women in general simply are not interested in making a living by fixing cars, or by fixing machines in general.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One can say that if men and women were truly treated equally, with totally free choice for everyone, there would be as many female mechanics as male ones, but I consider that to be extremely unlikely. Research has even indicated that in the most liberal societies, such as that of (rapidly disintegrating) Sweden, women deviate <i>more</i> from men in their life choices than women do in more traditional societies. So a woman may be even less likely to work at a traditionally male occupation in Sweden than she would in, say, Guatemala. Although I would guess that there are extremely few female auto mechanics in either country.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; What we’ve got going now in Western countries—especially among the political left, although it is becoming pervasive—is a case of cultural Lysenkoism, a rejection of empirical fact, along with natural human nature, in favor of an approved ideology, followed partly out of conformist herd instinct and a fear of being publicly attacked as a sexist, or racist, or whatever, and partly out of subjective emotionality. If disliked truths simply cannot be denied, a newly devised defense against them is to label them “hate facts.” It is largely the aforementioned feminine tendency for relative non-objectivity which is conditioning this trend. The situation is currently out of balance, in addition to being at odds with objectivity; and if this imbalance is not to result eventually in some kind of societal collapse, a more harmonious balance of masculine and feminine forces will probably be required.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Of course this essay is totally politically incorrect, and so I may as well conclude by gratuitously making it even worse. Based upon an interest in philosophy and an observation of who the greatest and worst philosophers have been, in my opinion, I arrived long ago at the hypothesis that women, artists, and French people should stay away from philosophy, as they rarely make a decent showing of it. My guess is that for whatever reasons they tend to be too subjective and “touchy-feely” to come up with philosophical theories that hold water. I like Voltaire, who was an artist as well as a Frenchman, although his greatest philosophy consisted of little more than mocking the stupidity of the human race. This is not to say that I’m <i>against</i> women, artists, or French people. I like women, I like art, and most of the few French people I have known have been very likable people. I’m just unimpressed with their attempts at philosophy, with extremely few exceptions.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The reason I bring this up is because I wish to point out that the philosophy of Postmodernism appears to be predominantly a French invention. So it goes. And finally, at the risk of tiresomely repeating myself over and over again like a mantra, Fuck Political Correctness.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-60FhvE0fhFA/Vxqtfs7NyFI/AAAAAAAABtY/T-RZqbTU_QkIIRi7iinhduQySUZG2UVkQCLcB/s1600/baudrillard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-60FhvE0fhFA/Vxqtfs7NyFI/AAAAAAAABtY/T-RZqbTU_QkIIRi7iinhduQySUZG2UVkQCLcB/s400/baudrillard.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-6758577593188220712016-04-16T16:00:00.000-07:002016-04-17T21:00:51.690-07:00A Brief Analysis of the Apparent Suicide Attempt of Western Europe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">“TRIGGER WARNING”: <i>This post is almost certainly the most rampantly politically incorrect article I’ve written. It is not merely poking at PC hysteria, but is blaspheming the Holy Spirit, slapping upside the head all that postmodern PC society holds sacred. Any of you who require ideological safe spaces should turn off your computer, leave the room, and curl up in the fetus position under a table.</i></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><i></i></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Your destiny is written in the books upon your shelf,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For history invariably returns unto itself,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And all the seers and the sages</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Who survived throughout the ages</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Have decreed that you will castrate yourself.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; History is full of gutless bleeding hearts like you</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Who destroyed themselves for lack of gut and thew;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And the heroes of the past</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Will have their laugh at last,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For they know that you are finished—you are through.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The Romans lasted near a thousand years,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; An Empire carved with axes, swords, and spears;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The world trembled at their feet</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And saw their harvests reaped,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Their cities raped and plundered, through their tears.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But Rome grew soft and spoiled and timid just like you,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And the men who survive this combo are too few;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; All the jewels on their sandals</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Couldn't stop those howling Vandals,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And they fell like gutless wonders always do.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; You're as weak as milk, and soft as currant jelly,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So beware the Vandal with the empty belly:</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He will never leap the net to shake your hand;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He will never try to make you understand;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He will kick you in the nuts,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Grease his tank treads with your guts—</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; At least you'll do to fertilize his land.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The following discussion is only very indirectly and tenuously related to Dharma in general, let alone Theravada Buddhism; but now we are at the Epilogue of this blog, or so it seems anyhow, and I am writing about what is of greatest interest to me at present (I begin writing this on 23 March 2016). I have not entirely given up on Dharma however, and even this post will have a little blatant Dharma toward the end, like a stinger in the tail.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It has been said many times that history repeats itself. Also it has been said that the only thing we learn from history is that people do not learn from history. This may be especially true nowadays, as many people consider the modern (or postmodern) world to be so different from everything that came before it, with its science and technology for instance, that the events of long ago are no longer really relevant as a guide for our present behavior. We’ve outgrown all that, supposedly. But human nature is still very much the same; humans are still human—all too human—and people continue to make essentially the same mistakes that their ancestors made centuries or millennia ago.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Consequently it should be no great surprise that the current migrant crisis in Europe (not so much a refugee crisis, since most of the immigrants are not Syrian refugees, but young men from other predominantly Islamic countries in search of opportunity), and especially German chancellor Angela Merkel’s role in the whole mess, can be called a case of history repeating itself. According to the historian Edward Gibbon, author of the great classic <i>The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire</i>, after a long decline, the Roman Empire finally began collapsing in earnest as a result of a crisis brought about by a massive influx of foreign immigrants. What happened is that Huns invaded the territory of the Visigoths, east of the Danube, in around 375, with the Ostrogoths having been already defeated and subjugated. Fearing the Huns more than they feared the degenerate Romans, a Visigothic leader named Fritigern requested permission of the weak emperor Valens for his people to settle peacefully in Roman territory west of the Danube; and Valens ill-advisedly granted the request. What began as a controlled resettlement soon degenerated into an uncontrolled exodus of un-Roman barbarians; and within two years these same Goths began running violently amuck, destroying the only large army that the now unwarlike Romans could muster against them. According to Gibbon, the Battle of Adrianople in 378, in which the Roman army was defeated and pretty much destroyed by the “peaceful” Gothic immigrants, marked the beginning of the actual collapse of Roman civilization.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I suppose I should state at this point that this essay, or whatever it is, is mainly inspired by a brief YouTube video I saw recently, in which a Danish journalist puts forth intelligent, objective, reasoned, and consequently politically incorrect, blasphemous arguments to the effect that the current <i>trans</i>liberal feminist orientation of postmodern Europe is leading Europe into cultural and political suicide. The journalist, a woman named Iben Thranholm, begins with comments on the fact that in response to the mass sexual molestations of German women last New Year’s Eve, men in the Netherlands put on women’s clothing and peacefully demonstrated. In order to understand the situation better, you would do well to click the link (which is <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYOORimbpUs" target="_blank">here</a></b>) and see it for yourself.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Consider, just as a kind of foundational circumstance, the hob feminist ideology has played with male/female relationships in the West. Much of feminist ideology sees white men as the enemy, representatives of the repressive patriarchy, the privileged ones who must be brought down in order for there to be equality and a better world. Consequently there is an open season on white men, with many women seeing “equality” as a matter of gaining as much <i>superiority</i> over them as possible. Men may be punished not only for paying unwanted attention to women, but even for having the temerity to disagree with them in public. Many Western men see Western women as having become such monsters that they simply avoid them as much as possible—leading to what is called, in America at least, MGTOW (men going their own way), also known as the “sexodus.” In the USA and probably in Western Europe also, a lower proportion of men desire marriage nowadays than ever before in history. This, besides women being taught by feminism that raising children and holding a family together instead of pursuing a professional career is demeaning and shameful, leads to reduced populations (which might be a great blessing <i>ecologically</i> if everyone were this way, but is a sociological disaster when nearby countries with a radically different culture continue to multiply prolificly and then overflow their borders). It also results in boys being raised without fathers, and being taught to think and act like women, which further results in greater gender confusion, leading to even more disruption of natural heterosexual relations and to the biological sabotage of the race. It also helps, of course, in producing a generation of soft, weak, effeminate men. But that is just for starters.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The reduced populations of European countries were seen as one obvious justification for welcoming literally millions of immigrants from predominantly Islamic cultures—which, still being male-dominated, traditional societies, still have a centuries-old family ethic and positive population growth.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; These immigrants are predominantly single young men, many of whom are no doubt sexually frustrated in their new environment; and they come from a culture that is lacking in respect for women in general, and especially lacking in respect for women viewed as immoral—which certainly includes most Western European female liberals. Many traditional Muslims view these same women who so enthusiastically welcomed the migrants as shameless wantons worthy of death. Many Muslims also despise Western secular culture in general, and soft, “decadent” men.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KJ24QlGbIXA/VxFOUUwxZ6I/AAAAAAAABtI/iBnT9YpPeQE7eH0mHcaI3MQAiIy2aRMnwCLcB/s1600/europe%2527s%2Bfront%2Bline%2Bagainst%2Bislamist%2Baggression.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KJ24QlGbIXA/VxFOUUwxZ6I/AAAAAAAABtI/iBnT9YpPeQE7eH0mHcaI3MQAiIy2aRMnwCLcB/s400/europe%2527s%2Bfront%2Bline%2Bagainst%2Bislamist%2Baggression.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Western Europe’s front line against Islamist aggression</span></i></div></div><div class="p2"><br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;At this point it is expedient to plunge deeper into politically incorrect unthinkable abomination by pointing out some pretty obvious facts about scriptural, traditional Islam. This may be easier on a Buddhist blog, as I suppose I’ve already weeded out many of the secular humanist types who consider all religions to teach pretty much the same stuff. The prophet Muhammad was no doubt an inspired person and cultural progressive <i>in 7th-century Arabia</i>, but fourteen centuries later traditional Islam, as found in the Quran and traditional literature like the Hadith, is anachronistic and barbarous to all in the West but the Muslims themselves—and, ironically, to liberal progressives who consider it to be <i>racist</i> to acknowledge obvious unsavory facts about this particular <i>ideology</i>, not about a race. Muhammad began his spiritual career as a humble man, but ended it as a conquering warlord. Unlike the Buddha or Jesus of Nazareth, he ordered the deaths of hundreds of people, sold women and children into slavery, led armed pirate raids against caravans to supplement the incomes of himself and his followers, <i>and</i> he reportedly had sexual intercourse with a nine-year-old girl. All of this may have been liberal, relatively enlightened behavior for 7th-century Arabia—yet he is <i>still</i> considered to be the ideal role model for 21st-century Muslims. The Quran itself repeatedly exhorts Muslims to kill nonbelievers and hypocrites. The tradition itself commands the chopping off of a thief’s hand as punishment, as well as the killing of immoral women and homosexual men. To all of this the Muslims admit freely, and honor it as the perfect word of Allah, the benevolent, the merciful. This is not just an extremist fringe movement, but is represented within traditional Islam itself, even though most Muslims are presumably peace-loving people who do not participate actively in such draconian 7th-century morality.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I suppose I should clarify and emphasize that Islam is indeed a religion of peace, to the extent that peace and mercy are praised in the scripture and the tradition. It is also, however, a religion of violence, as war and the killing of human beings, for certain reasons, are also endorsed. Most Muslims presumably emphasize the peaceful aspects, which is a very good thing, although the warlike aspects are nevertheless still there; whereas canonical texts like the Buddhist Tipitaka and the Christian New Testament condone peace only, and not war. Thus Islam <i>may</i> be a religion of peace, but violent people may use it as a justification for violence to an extent that other religious systems cannot.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It is true that the Hebrew Bible is even more violent and blood-soaked than the Quran, also condoning the killing of human beings, but there are some significant differences, one of the greatest of which is that Biblical Judaism continued to evolve, as did the Jews’ conception of God: as they became more “civilized,” for lack of a better word, so did their Deity. The Quran, however, by its very nature as a pure, divine revelation to a single prophet, has not and could not be changed or supplemented as civilization progressed. Also of course the Jews have had little intention of spreading their religion, by force if necessary, to everyone in the world, unless maybe their promised Messiah were to take responsibility for that. Also the Hebrews have had little conception of the glory and heavenly rewards of jihadist martyrdom—an idea that has inspired a great many Islamist suicide bombers of late. So of all the major religions in the world today, there can be little doubt that Islam is the one which most condones violence, the killing of human beings, and also the forceful subjugation of women. It is built right into the traditional Islamic system, and no amount of Western politically correct hysterical denial will change this. Traditional Islam and its Sharia law simply are not compatible with Western liberal humanist values.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So ironically, very ironically, feminized liberals who traditional Islam views as abomination have welcomed with open arms traditional Muslims, most of whom are admittedly peaceful people, and many of whom are willing to conform to European culture, but some of whom are aggressive Islamists who don’t give the slightest damn about Western values, including the rights of women. Even the relatively peaceful Muslims who nevertheless believe that archaic Sharia law should be mandatory constitute if not a majority, a very numerous minority.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Thus hundreds of thousands of aggressive young men from a traditional Islamic male-dominant culture come to Europe, are sexually frustrated, and gradually become generally frustrated and angry at the non-Islamic “defilement” prevailing all around them. It is no wonder that sexual molestation has become endemic in countries with many new Muslim immigrants; it is no wonder that terrorist attacks are more common; and it will be no wonder at all if the situation becomes much worse before it gets any better. The most aggressive of the migrants do not want cultural diversity; they want mandatory Islam.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And what do the Europeans do about this? Well, for starters the men put on women’s clothing and peacefully wave signs. Is that going to solve the problem? Of course not. If anything it will make it worse, as such weak responses demonstrate to angry young Muslim men that Europeans are weak and decadent, and manifestly worthy of contemptuous hostility. For that matter, conformist ultraliberals refuse even to see the problem out of fear of looking like politically incorrect racists and Islamophobes and thereby being persecuted by their peers. When several hundred German women were molested in one night by gangs of Islamic immigrants, the feminized governments of Europe, including that of Germany, first tried to cover it all up, but there was such an indignant outcry over social media that they realized they would have to admit to the event…yet still they tried to conceal, or at least downplay, the fact that these attacks, and many others like them, were perpetrated by the same Muslim migrants they welcomed so enthusiastically. In short, the feminized system of Europe can do nothing to stop these events from happening, and for the most part are too hysterical in their denial even to deal with the causes of the predicament. Instead, efforts are being made to censor social media to prevent criticism of the crisis.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If you watch the video with Iben Thranholm you may notice that the primary argument of her interviewer, obviously a liberal feminist, is along the lines of, “But the sexual molestations shouldn’t happen!” Regardless of its truth, it is irrelevant. It would be just as ridiculous to say of an earthquake, “But earthquakes shouldn’t happen!” It happened anyway, didn’t it, and earthquakes will continue to happen, regardless of how we feel about that. And the soft, weak, feminized Europeans, including the men, and especially the liberal feminists more or less in charge, lack the backbone or the cojones to stop it.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It may be that, as Thranholm says, Western Europe’s only hope for survival is a “men’s revolution,” which unfortunately may be perpetrated by pissed off, outraged men, the few remaining who still own a spine, in a reactionary, radical swing to the political right. Thus either way, whether Europe becomes Islamic or not, Western European women will probably lose the insane dysfunctional dystopia they are currently in the process of creating—with the best of intentions of course. The women of Europe may eventually have the choice of either fascism or Islamism! And especially in the latter case retreating into lesbianism won’t be much of an option, as Islamic law has ways of dealing with such women.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And it may be that America’s greatest hope, aside from reliance on its geographical isolation, is for Western Europe really to be overthrown and supplanted by an Islamist emirate, with homosexuals and “immodest” women summarily put to death (and possibly millions of Jews also—which may sound familiar), to demonstrate the consequences of the insane fucked-uppedness of the policies of the regressive left. As it is, even now, disgust, indignation, and even horror at the endemic insanity of the new left, with its PC culture, victim culture, thought control, feelings police, demonization of white men, etc., is driving Americans by the tens of millions into the arms of Donald Trump.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Joseph Stalin is said to have said, presumably before the end of World War II, “We don’t have to worry about the Germans, because they will <i>arm</i> themselves out of existence. And we don’t have to worry about the British, because they will <i>expand</i> themselves out of existence. And we don’t have to worry about the Americans, because they will <i>spend</i> themselves out of existence.” Despite being a genocidal sociopath, Stalin seems to have had some political acumen, if not prophetic talent. Anyway, now it appears that Western Europeans in general, and possibly the Americans and Canadians also, are <i>feminizing</i> themselves out of existence.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If a nice, gentle, cooing little dove meets with a hawk, what do you think is gong to happen? What <i>should</i> happen is irrelevant. If a soft, fleecy lamb as it frisks along meets with a hungry wolf, what can you realistically expect? Wolves gotta eat too you know. Now I may as well toss in the Dharma stinger I promised, so here it is: From a purely Dharmic perspective, violence is ethically&nbsp;<i>unskillful</i>; it is better to die than to kill. So if we in the West all adopt such a view, with nobody willing to sacrifice his own karma, by fighting back, for the sake of society, then the best we can do when violent people want to destroy us and our society and we no longer have anywhere to hide, is to die with equanimity, and to forgive our destroyers. Ultimately, if karma is all that Buddhist philosophy says it is, then we are really destroying ourselves anyway, and getting exactly what we deserve.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In conclusion I wish to remind you, dear reader, if you managed to get this far, that I am <i>not</i> against the equality of women. (Neither am I an Islamophobe in the literal sense, as “-phobe” means “afraid.” I would advise caution rather than fear. Hell, I don’t hate Islam, as it really can be and is a source of good and of wisdom, not just of violent fanaticism. Sufism is profound. I could become a Muslim much more easily than I could become a Christian, because of all that stuff about the Trinity and Jesus dying for my sins. And I must admit that from the perspective of social Darwinism, survival of the fittest civilizations, traditional Islam may turn out to be a much more viable system than what has come to prevail in the West nowadays.) But although I do endorse equal rights and female equality, I very much do not believe that men and women should be <i>the same.</i> Equal, but different. A civilization that socially castrates men and requires them to behave like women or eunuchs is a feeble, defenseless, doomed civilization, totally regardless of what <i>should</i> be the case.&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n5cbgSObPg4/VwwYuwzQFpI/AAAAAAAABsc/5YuPQwUhdqo771ZwYux77xhcqr6_RlcGA/s1600/Scott%2Bof%2Bthe%2BSahara.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n5cbgSObPg4/VwwYuwzQFpI/AAAAAAAABsc/5YuPQwUhdqo771ZwYux77xhcqr6_RlcGA/s400/Scott%2Bof%2Bthe%2BSahara.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">oh for the good old days when men fought lions with their bare hands</span></i></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hY8m82SV1tY/VwwZG0nYlpI/AAAAAAAABsg/AMv7JRS43MMqdrY1OqDZNkH-7Kw40VciQ/s1600/metrosexual%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hY8m82SV1tY/VwwZG0nYlpI/AAAAAAAABsg/AMv7JRS43MMqdrY1OqDZNkH-7Kw40VciQ/s400/metrosexual%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>...now what we've got is this</i></span></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /><i></i></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p3"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p4"><i>the video: </i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaOLgy3YKtA"><i>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaOLgy3YKtA</i></a></div><div class="p3"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p4"><i>an article by Iben Thranholm:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.rt.com/op-edge/329241-europes-tragedy-merkel-immigration/">https://www.rt.com/op-edge/329241-europes-tragedy-merkel-immigration/</a></i></div><div class="p3"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p3"><br /></div><div class="p3"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Let your wife make your decisions;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Drink your beer, watch television;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But your children who are sleeping in their beds</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Will be softer yet than you are,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; And that's taking things too far:</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Oh, you've really put a curse upon their heads!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Does your daughter, when she trembles in her sleep,</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Hear rockets roar, and hear the marching feet</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Of men who know a craving and a thirst</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; For loot of war—and know they'll take her first?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-19517022723786537532016-04-09T14:12:00.001-07:002016-04-09T14:12:13.980-07:00With All Due Respect<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Last year when I was in Bali I was asked to give a talk about Respect. I started the talk by pointing out that an American teaching Asians about respect is like a turtle teaching birds about flying. But, we do the best we can, which is really all we can do.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Then not so long ago, shortly before my return to the USA, a friend of mine whom I've never met advised me that, when I return to the West again, I shouldn't expect the same kind of respect that monks receive in the East, and I certainly shouldn't insist upon it. After a few years of attempting to find a place in America and interacting with Western Buddhists, this advice was so plainly obvious as to go without saying. Even to expect even one fifth of the respect that monks receive in a Buddhist culture like Burma would be laughably unrealistic.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This is a matter of American culture, and of Western culture in general—so it would be foolish to blame Westerners for being Westerners. This is just the way it is. In a humanistic, egalitarian society like America, where everyone is supposed, theoretically at least, to be equal, and thereby just as worthy as anyone else, then it follows that deep reverence pretty much flies out the window. I recently had a strange disagreement with an American person about respect which is a case in point. We had both attended a brief talk given by an American Dharma teacher in which he referred to a Buddha image, which he was officially installing under a Bodhi tree, as "this little sucker," twice, in possibly the most devoutly Buddhist country in the world, with Burmese people in the audience, and I pointed out the ironic strangeness of that, the strange contrast of the two approaches to Buddhism. She stated that in her opinion Americans have plenty of respect…and then went so far as to cast an aspersion or two on the validity of the Burmese version. Now, I have been totally overwhelmed by Burmese respect, sometimes even embarrassed and shamed by a relentless respect onslaught, and have gone hungry in America due to the indifference (or worse) of an American Buddhist community; and so this riled me a bit, and I didn't let it slide. So, I pointed out how, in my opinion, American respect and Burmese respect are like night and day, with the American version corresponding to night...and one statement led to another, resulting in her becoming so annoyed, or something, that she informed me she didn't want someone like me in her house or around her kids...which was the most extreme disrespect I had ever experienced coming from her direction. I admit, though, that from an American point of view she may have been perfectly justified. That whole interaction still strikes me as ironic, and very strange.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I am sure there are many genuinely respectful people in America. Not just polite or friendly, but deeply respectful. I have no doubt of it. Yet some folks in the West may consider themselves to be respectful; they may feel some respect sometimes and thereby have sufficient evidence that they are indeed properly respectful; and so if they are told that they aren't respectful they may become annoyed, even a little abusive. Yet, from what I have seen in rural Burma over the past twenty years, the average Burmese villager probably has <i>at least</i> ten times the amount of respectful feeling as the average American, at least with regard to religion and to other people. Maybe even fifty times as much. In this respect (no pun intended) the Burmese are so completely off the Western scale as to be incomprehensible. I've mentioned in a previous post the young village women who knelt along Taungpulu Sayadaw's path, bowed down, and spread their long hair over the path for him to walk on it. Even the old Indian tradition of showing reverence by touching an elder's bare feet is beyond the scale of most Americans. It's degrading. It's demeaning to one's own dignity and equality. It's obsequious bootlicking. It's even unsanitary. In America respect is shown by treating others as one's equals; and since most Americans, apparently, do not believe in themselves all that much, they don't believe in others all that much either. Or, in other words, most of us lay unnecessary, negative limitations on ourselves, and so in order for everyone to be equal we lay unnecessary, negative limitations on everyone else also.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Even though monks must not expect much respect in the West, and certainly not insist upon it, still there is a minimum amount, a minimum daily allowance, below which the whole situation becomes, according to the Pali texts, inappropriate and unacceptable. In other words, a monk is pretty much obligated to clear out of such a situation, in the Buddhist equivalent of shaking the dust from his sandals. Even if people do not have respect for a monk personally, still there is the matter of respect for what he represents, what he has done with his life and why, and what he is able to share, in order for it to be appropriate for him to share it. Even if people dislike some monk in particular, still there is call for respect for the ideals of Dharma and Sangha, and maybe Buddha also. But this kind of respect is clearly not an established part of Western society, and it does not come naturally. Once I noticed on a Buddhist forum that one Asian person had mentioned that I had lived in a Burmese forest for years (often not even in a building), and another (Western) person's response was along the lines of, "So what. Forest rangers live in forests too." Living the so-called Holy Life appears not to be valued much in the West. A few people actually seem to resent its very existence. And this is setting aside the more practical rock-bottom issue of lack of respect for renunciants resulting in lack of support with regard to the requisites of life, such as food.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; To some degree the issue may be seen as a matter of Buddhist etiquette. For example, sitting on a chair or high seat when a monk (especially a senior one) is sitting on the floor or on a low seat has been considered crass bad manners in Buddhist culture for 2500 years. To Westerners it is nothing. It is no big deal at all to sit in a chair with a senior monk sitting at one's feet. I remember once when I was a very junior monk in California an older American woman came to visit me, and while I was sitting on the floor she sat in the only chair in the room—one reserved for the senior monks, so that even I was not supposed to sit in it. Burmese monks would look in and see something moderately outrageous (one could see it in their eyes), while the American woman probably thought absolutely nothing of it. There is actually a rule of monastic discipline forbidding a monk from teaching Dhamma to someone so disrespectful that he or she would sit on a higher seat than the teacher. This has nothing to do with American culture, however, and most people don't see it as a matter of respect at all; it's simply a desire to be comfortable, a matter of common sense. So, many monks in the West, including me when I'm there, let the rule slide and teach Dhamma sitting on a mat on the floor to people sitting on chairs.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Of course one could say that Westerners simply are not familiar with Eastern etiquette, including traditional Buddhist etiquette. But even if they do become familiar with it, they may still have aversion for behaving in accordance with it. "Why should I have to sit on the floor? It's hard. I'd probably get sore, or at least uncomfortable. Besides, a monk is just a human being like anyone else." A more obvious example is bowing. Most American Buddhists don't bow to monks, at least as far as I have seen. I'm an American too, of course, so I can speak from my own experience on this: For the first twenty times or so that I bowed to a Buddhist monk, I felt very awkward and self-conscious, somewhat like the way I used to feel when I would dance without being drunk yet. But in my case it was't much of an option, since I was intending to become a monk at this monastery, and I wan't about to start acting uppity. Besides, I really did respect some of them—all of them, at first. And I had great respect for what they represented.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Still, though, if people do not have respect for Dhamma, if they attend a Dhamma talk as though it were a college seminar or public library lecture, employing cool, critical reasoning, or following a desire for entertainment, without regard for Spirit, then they probably aren't going to get much out of it. If you go to the ocean with only a cup, you get only a cupful.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Recently in Rangoon/Yangon a fellow from New Zealand was sentenced to two years in prison for publishing an advertisement for his pub showing a Buddha image wearing stereo headphones. Two years in prison for that. I assume that he vehemently assured the judge, more than once, that he meant no disrespect at all toward the Buddha, or toward Burmese religion; yet passive, unintentional disrespect is still disrespect. The guy may have been a clueless blunderer, and I suspect the Burmese government deliberately made a harsh example of him to show the Westerners flooding into the country that Western irreverence toward religion and Dhamma was not going to be ignored; yet even Western Buddhist teachers can behave in similar ways. Recall the "little sucker" incident. We Westerners just don't know any better. We may not <i>mean</i> to be disrespectful, we just naturally <i>are. </i>Or unnaturally are. Anyhow, that's the way we are conditioned. And again, since we've been conditioned that way since infancy, there's no point in blaming anyone.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But here's the thing: With respect, if someone tells us a truth that we very much don't want to hear, out of respect for who said it we may actually hear it, and maybe even act upon the advice in a beneficial way. Without respect, we simply won't hear it, and may spend the rest of our lives beating our head against the wall that we refuse to see. We Westerners acknowledge that a surgeon knows more about surgery than we do, and an auto mechanic knows more about fixing cars, but many of us assume that we know more about what is good for our spirit than anyone else, including extremely wise saints.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Here's another thing: When a pickpocket meets a saint, all he notices are his pockets. And America, my friends, is a nation of pickpockets, so to speak. &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; We each create our own version of reality; and most of us in the West are creating a "reality" without sacredness, without anyone or anything being deeply respectable. The situation reminds me of René Guénon's observations about modern humanism and rationalism—humanism teaches us that anything higher than us is unimportant, if not totally nonexistent, and rationalism teaches us that nothing is higher than the reach of the human intellect. That is, that critical thought can understand <i>anything</i>, even the mind of God, if such a being actually were to exist. Thus everything in the whole Universe is brought down to the human or intellectual level, and rendered thoroughly mundane. We have an artificially created ceiling over us, limiting our world to what we can criticize. Wide-eyed wonder is for children. As for respect, maybe that's not even for children anymore, since children in Western culture are more and more viewed as the equals of their parents and teachers, and tend more and more to see themselves that way.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In a sense, of course, we <i>are</i> all equal. Actually in more than one sense. Yet modern ideas of equality seem not very conducive to respect, let alone full-blown reverence. If we do not revere someone as being better than us or wiser than us or closer to Enlightenment than us, then it would seem that another valid sort of mutual respect could be found in the sentiment of the Indian word "namaste," which means, or so I've been told, "I honor the Divine within you." It is a word that is extremely egalitarian, since it acknowledges that we are all equally a manifestation of the Ultimate. But the Ultimate is beyond humanism, rationalism, and mainstream Western culture, and so we have not been taught to have much appreciation for it, if any. But because we are alive we cannot help but have a deep, subliminal consciousness that it is there.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Getting back to the Burmese and their much more traditional culture, it's not just to monks and nuns, statues and pagodas, that they show respect that is off the scale by American standards. They respect their worldly teachers, and loyally support them and bow to them for many years after they stop being their students. For example, if a man learns how to fix cars from another man, he may stick up for him, his teacher, for the rest of his life, even though the guy might be a drunken troublemaker. They respect their doctors, too—once a monastic friend and I were visiting a Burmese surgeon (who ran a clinic in his house and performed throat operations in a room next to his sitting room), and two of his clients came in and bowed to him before they bowed to us monks. They really got down on their knees for it, too. In the villages near my cave monastery in upper Burma there are festivals held in honor of everyone in the village at least seventy years of age; they offer them a feast and gifts, and then they sincerely bow to them and ask for their blessings. Even the standard respect of one person for another, at least in village culture, is remarkable. It helps to explain why the Burmese don't care all that much about their appearance (unless maybe they are trying to attract a mate); people accept them even if they have a pot belly, one milky white eye, and missing or black teeth. And even the village idiot or crazy person is treated with a certain dignity, even if he gets really difficult sometimes. But in the West, as a general rule, things tend to be different. &nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; We are creating an unspiritual modern world for ourselves. The stereotypical Western mind insists upon spiritual destitution, upon a spiritually comatose society that now appears to be in the process of dying. We feel a certain respect for the earth (the likes of which the Burmese do not pretend to understand—<i>that</i> is completely off <i>their</i> scale), yet in general we refuse to stop afflicting this same earth with our energy consumption, waste, and contributions to the birth rate—our convenience is more important than Gaia, or our respect for her/it. We live in a culture in which selfishness and alienation are actually encouraged by the system. We give everyone the same Please, Thank You, I'm Sorry, etc., out of a kind of mechanical, mandatory politeness, yet deep down we really don't trust each other all that much, and try to protect ourselves behind a wall of institutional regulations that don't work, instead of believing in each other, and in the human spirit, the divine spirit honored by the word <i>namaste</i>. But honoring each other, really respecting each other, let alone spiritual teachers, may be our only real chance of survival. The current way doesn't work so well, and is going to stop before much longer, whether we like it or not. Everything is impermanent, and our way of living is becoming impermanenter and impermanenter.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So, what do we do? Just saying "Be more respectful" isn't going to work. If you don't have it, you just don't have it, and talking about it is pretty much futile; on the other hand, if you do have it, then talking about it is pretty much <i>still</i> futile, in the sense of unnecessary. I really don't know what is going to happen with modern society. I do suspect, though, that a major change is necessary, and that it may be the result of a nationwide or worldwide crisis, something big enough to knock us out of our convenient ruts, and out from behind our convenient walls and barricades. People won't change until they have no choice. Maybe, after that, respect, including respect for teachers, spirituality, and Dhamma, will come into fashion. Once it's in fashion people will really go for it. But until then, I dunno.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, be well and happy, and I hope you're not out there giving me the finger for suggesting that you, and we Westerners in general, are disrespectful.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I conclude this harangue with a quote from Sai Baba which I have quoted before. He made his point in Hindu terminology, with regard to God in the form of Krishna, but it could easily be translated into the language of any spiritual tradition.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">If you take Krishna to be a mere cowherd, a man of the world like others, then for you he will be just a cowherd! You too climb only up to that stage….You will have noticed that Uddhava who looked upon Krishna as his Guru benefitted more than Arjuna who looked upon him as a Sakha, a friend. If you have faith that he is God, He will be God to you; if you dismiss Him as a mere man, He takes on that role and becomes useless for you. Search for Him with the heart, not with the eye for externals. The superpower has to be sought in the super-state itself, not in the lower states. Then, if you have the eyes that are fit to see and the wisdom to understand, you will find Him.&nbsp;</blockquote><div class="p1"><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ih2qmxeKeT0/VRZXBFnLLuI/AAAAAAAABDg/5b3hcmbYpHU/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ih2qmxeKeT0/VRZXBFnLLuI/AAAAAAAABDg/5b3hcmbYpHU/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="p4" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I'm pretty sure this isn't the picture</span></i></div><div class="p4" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">that got the New Zealand guy thrown into prison,&nbsp;</span></i></div><div class="p4" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">but the one I think is the right one is so ugly</span></i></div><div class="p4" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(lurid pink, with thick, ugly features)</span></i></div><div class="p4" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">that I don't want to publish it on this blog</span></i></div><div class="p5"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p5"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2"><b>Appendix: A Few Pointers on Buddhist Etiquette</b></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Even if we Westerners are "respect retards," at least we can learn some simple good manners from a traditional Buddhist point of view. Remember that, even though they are not Western manners, still one will appear like a rude and/or ignorant barbarian to those with a more traditional attitude if one ignores them. One may even unnecessarily offend people, or undermine one's own credibility as a Buddhist.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't offer to shake hands with a monk or nun. It's better just to put your palms together in front of you and smile (especially if you don't feel like bowing).<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't point your feet at anyone, especially at a monk, nun, teacher, or elderly person, or at a Buddha image, Buddhist text, or anything else which could be considered sacred.<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't sit on a seat higher than a monk, nun, teacher, or elderly person; and if you yourself are elderly or injured and just can't sit on the floor, at least explain the situation and ask permission first.<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't sit listening to a Dhamma talk with your knees up, hugging them. (It shows one's butt to the teacher, and there's actually a rule against teaching someone who is sitting that way.)<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't even touch a monastic of the opposite gender—especially if you don't know their attitude on such matters.<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't approach a monk, nun, or teacher with your shoes on if that person is barefoot, especially indoors.<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't place Buddha images or scriptures on low or dirty places (like on top of the toilet tank), unless maybe a Buddha image is too huge to place on a shelf.<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~Don't help yourself to food that has been offered to a monk or nun (this may seem obvious, but a few people have actually done this with me, even while I was eating it). Ask first, and then offer the food again, since your taking some of it may technically have broken the original offering.<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">~If you are walking with a monk or nun, don't discuss Dhamma with them if you are walking in front, or if you are walking on the path and the monastic is walking beside it.<br /><br />~Try to remember that some monastics are relatively very innocent, and many of the remainder are attempting to regain their innocence; so exercise some restraint about what you choose to talk about. Casual conversation between laypeople is often much too irreverent and spicy to be appropriate, especially for Asian monastics that have been ordained since they were children.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2">~And remember that many monks (probably at least half of the Western ones) don't handle money, and they're simply not going to survive without the generosity of others. To offer food to a monastic is really not all that difficult or expensive, and you gather up treasure in heaven.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">I'm sure I've forgotten plenty of important ones, but this is a fair sample. If you know of some crucial ones I've forgotten, feel free to let me know.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br />(<i>written one year ago, in Yangon</i>)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p6"><br /><i></i></div><div class="p6"><i></i><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-14341705584088783302016-04-02T16:01:00.000-07:002016-04-13T21:36:33.335-07:00Mourning the Death of the Spirit of Freedom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; An optimist says that the glass is half full.</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A pessimist says that the glass is half empty.</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A feminist says that the glass is raped. &nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; </i>(—a comment to an antifeminist video on YouTube)</div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Warning: This is essentially an indignant political and social rant. There is, however, some genuine and important Buddhist Dharma in the third to last paragraph of the essay.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;It started like this: My friend Eline in the Netherlands sent me the link to an extraordinarily politically incorrect <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxpVwBzFAkw" target="_blank">YouTube video</a></b> by a certain Black Pigeon Speaks, in which the narrator describes how 21st-century feminism is destroying Western civilization in general, and Western Europe in particular, with plenty of reference to the fact that feminized societies are undermining their own existence by welcoming and defending millions of young Muslim men, some of whom are radical Islamists who openly despise European civilization. I’m not exactly sure why Eline sent it to me. Possibly an outrageously loud, confident voice aggressively challenging “progressive” liberalism can cause a European college girl some uncertainty. Which is a good thing by the way.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, although I didn’t agree with all of the video, I found it very interesting, and containing more truth than could possibly be accepted by the vast herd of politically correct conformists, and I was intrigued enough to investigate…and before very long I was deep down the rabbit hole, observing in fascination more and more of this kind of public rebellion against the new world order. (Some prominent names among my sources are Dave Rubin, Milo Yiannopoulis, Sargon of Akkad, Chris Ray Gun (one of my favorites), Christina Hoff Sommers, Lauren Southern, Thunderf00t (way too hostile and sarcastic for my tastes), Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, SkepTorr, Paul Joseph Watson (another favorite, so long as he talks about PC hysteria), and one called Naked Ape.) I watched many indignant anti-authoritarian reactions against so-called PC culture, and more on the European migrant crisis, which gradually ramified into such surreal realms as sexual molestation epidemics in Europe and Britain predominantly as a result of Muslim immigration (which feminized governments have attempted to cover up out of fear of appearing politically incorrect by admitting that brown-skinned Muslim men have molested European women), the “regressive left,” “victim culture,” Sam Harris’s repeated public criticisms of and warnings about Islam, and even Gamergate, a kind of scandal viewed from opposite poles by its advocates and detractors, which, from the advocates’ point of view, was largely a hostile reaction against feminized political correctness invading the world of video games. It was astonishing. I went into a kind of agitated trance, and spent many hours, three days in a row, watching more and more of this, occasionally backing up the research by reading a written article. I had no damn idea it had come to this. Although I am a Buddhist and a monk, there were times when I was more indignant and/or outraged than the ranting narrators themselves.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lcr85VniXXQ/VvBQ6Zs1xCI/AAAAAAAABqo/Y6cYMpOFj2YnssJ-2VTq_u4bZK4rhbIvQ/s1600/aaaplanet-of-the-apes-1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lcr85VniXXQ/VvBQ6Zs1xCI/AAAAAAAABqo/Y6cYMpOFj2YnssJ-2VTq_u4bZK4rhbIvQ/s400/aaaplanet-of-the-apes-1968.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A few examples.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Relatively recently some students at Yale University, including a hysterically shrieking young woman, were angrily protesting—not against US military involvement in foreign countries, not against corporatocracy, not even for fundamental civil rights, but because <i>the administration refused to ban potentially “offensive” politically incorrect Halloween costumes on campus, out of consideration for freedom of thought and expression.</i> Also, in another report, many students at Yale were actually engaged in activism <i>to repeal the first amendment of the US Constitution.</i> (The first amendment, by the way, is this: “<span class="s1">Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.</span>”)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~A few years ago a man in Toronto was publicly condemned and jailed for no greater crime than disagreeing with two or three feminists on Twitter, mainly over their attempts to essentially ruin the life of a young man whom they considered to be a misogynist. Although he had previously endorsed their organization, these women reacted by getting him banned from Twitter, and later from the entire Internet, awkwardly framed and falsely accused him of being a pedophile, tried to have his art (he is an artist) banned from public exposure (with some of his artwork vandalized and destroyed), and finally got him imprisoned—despite the fact that they admitted that the guy had not actually threatened them or even gone so far as to make sexist remarks. Still, they had him arrested and prosecuted for “cyberviolence,” and PC hysteria duly condemned him. <b>(<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzRqrj7cBFw&amp;index=90&amp;list=WL" target="_blank">see for yourself</a>) </b>Recently, after a Kafkaesque legal process lasting about three years, he was finally found not guilty by a judge who was politely and “correctly” apologetic to the artist’s accusers because their evidence was insufficient. The mass media, and especially female journalists, continued to favor the feminists in this case.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~In 2014 a scientist succeeded in landing a space probe on the surface of a comet. This is the first time anything like this has ever been accomplished. At some sort of interview he was wearing a garish bowling shirt that a female friend had made for him—presumably wearing it because he was celebrating the highpoint of his entire career and was feeling jubilant and silly; and a news article covering the interview had this for a headline: “<i>I don’t care if you landed a spacecraft on a comet, your shirt is sexist and ostracizing</i>.” I am sorry to say that the man submitted to PC authoritarianism and made a public apology, immediately after which he broke down into tears, still on camera. His scientific achievement was contemptuously dismissed in favor of bashing the fact that he wore a shirt with cartoon pictures of sexy women on it. The event has been called the Shirt Storm.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Also in 2014 a young woman entered a police station (apparently in America), stealthily came up behind a police officer sitting quietly at his desk, and assaulted him with a knife, apparently intending to cut his throat, with him receiving injury to his neck before finally subduing her (while she was obviously trying to stab him), and all of this was captured on video. An open and shut case of assault with a deadly weapon, right? Wrong! She was found <i>not guilty</i> after the jury deliberated for less than two hours. And why? Because she is female. See for yourself, if you consider this too far-fetched to be believed. <b>(<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyvIif2YL9o" target="_blank">here</a>)</b></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Feminists have begun requesting that people no longer clap at public functions but should just wave their hands around (called “Jazz hands”), because the loud noise of applause may be “triggering” to some (presumably female, presumably emotionally fragile) members of the audience. In fact, feminists are attempting to ban just about anything that anyone could conceivably use as an excuse to be triggered or offended—except to white men, whose feelings are dismissed with utter contempt, often with unconcealed hostility.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Certain liberal feminists have started a campaign of “Storming Wikipedia” by injecting feminist ideology into science articles. One example I saw involved an article on sexual dimorphism, a biological tendency in some species for males and females to have markedly different anatomical features, as is the case in lions, chickens, bees, and human beings. The Wiki article states, as an example, that women have 40-60% less upper body strength than men, and elsewhere states that even men who do not exercise regularly have significantly greater physical strength than female athletes, on average. These statements were backed up by references to well-known scientific journals. Within the same article is found a statement that greater male upper body strength is merely a cultural artifact caused by males being encouraged to exercise more than females. This statement referenced a feminist article, based more upon feminist ideology than upon empirical science. (I just rechecked, and this statement has now been removed, which is understandable, as it is pseudoscience.) In fact it is a common tenet of feminism that there are absolutely no inherent psychological differences between men and women, that all such differences are the artificial result of an oppressive patriarchy. Thus, presumably, the fact that more men fix machinery for a living or fish for crabs in the Bering Sea is due to sexist oppression. Some obviously wish to believe that this alleged gender sameness is true of most physical differences also.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Not only are some high school and college students required to take Gender Studies classes, which are of course classes in neo-liberal feminism, many male students are now required to attend classes on how NOT to be rapists, let alone sexists, going with the feminist tenet that all men are potential rapists, and must be carefully reprogrammed to prevent this. “Rape” nowadays may include consensual sex with both parties being drunk, after which the woman regrets what happened, a man <i>refusing </i>to have sex with a woman, or even a man <i>speaking</i> to a woman without her previous consent.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~It has become very common for people to assert that only men can be sexist and only white people can be racist, thereby flinging the door wide open to hostile bigotry on the part of everyone else. Due to the newly embraced concept of “microaggression,” even for a white person to deny being racist is racist, for someone to ask where an immigrant is from is racist, for someone to acknowledge unpleasant facts about the violence and discrimination against women in traditional Islam is racist, for a man to disagree with a woman about anything at all is sexist, and even for him to show obvious consideration for her, as by letting her take his seat on a crowded bus, is <i>offensive</i> sexist microaggression. Yet high-profile feminists can propose that all men should be killed or put in concentration camps, or threaten men with physical injury, and public opinion will take her side, with no negative consequences.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~I could go on and on and on, since this kind of stuff is not only firing indignant commentary from a new breed of “cultural libertarians” fighting against the hostile, repressive authoritarianism of political correctness thought police, but it is flooding mainstream media as well (although the latter often are endorsing it). But I will add one more which is especially poignant for me because it concerns my old alma mater, Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington. According to an <b><a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2016/03/07/the-college-that-wants-to-ban-history.html" target="_blank">article</a></b> in <i>The Daily Beast</i>, students at WWU calling themselves the Assembly for Power and Liberation are demanding a kind of Orwellian extremist liberal junta on campus. Here are some excerpts from the article:&nbsp;</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s1">Activists are demanding the creation of a new college dedicated to social justice activism, a student committee to police offensive speech, and culturally segregated living arrangements at the school….Students have the right to push for robust changes to campus conditions, of course. But if administrators care about free speech at all, they will ignore these calls to create an almost cartoonishly autocratic liberal thought police on campus….Activists have also demanded the creation of an Office for Social Transformation, which would employ 15 students—young Robespierres in training—for the purposes of monitoring “racist, anti-black, transphobic, cissexist, misogynistic, ableist, homophobic, Islamophobic, and otherwise oppressive behavior on campus.” (Anti-Semitism, one notes, is curiously omitted.) These students will be granted terrifying powers to discipline faculty members who commit microaggressions. Professors—even tenured professors—can and will be placed under investigation if they are accused of maintaining insufficiently safe spaces within their classrooms. These measures are hailed as “progressive” by the activists—because what could be more progressive than committees of liberal extremists conducting thoughtcrime investigations?…it seems like the idea is to turn the campus into a zone of liberal ideological conformity from which there is no escape….At the heart of this effort lies a bizarrely totalitarian ideology: Student-activists think they have all the answers—everything is settled, and people who dissent are not merely wrong, but actually guilty of something approaching a crime. If they persist in this wrongness, they are perpetuating violence, activists will claim. The list of demands ends with a lengthy denunciation of WWU’s marginalization of “hxstorically oppressed students.” The misspelling is intentional: “hxstory,” I presume, was judged to be more PC than “history,” which is gendered, triggering, and perhaps violent. It’s easy for me to laugh at these clumsy attempts to make language obey the dictates of political correctness—but I laugh from a position of relative safety, since I am not a WWU professor.</span></blockquote><div class="p4">I ask you: How is this different from 20th-century Marxist radicalism? Two ways in which it is similar is that it is outrageously unrealistic, rejecting and attempting to ban even empirical truth if it challenges the ideology, and that it is bound to fail horrendously after inevitably resulting in a great deal of oppression, violence, and misery. A primary difference is that instead of physical violence and terrorism as means of compulsion for acceptance of the system, intolerant radicals usually rely on media bias, complaints to the police, attempts at ruining the antagonist’s career by getting him discredited and fired, deluges of hostile comments on social media, and of course the human sheeplike conformity with whatever is in fashion.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This is no longer a fringe movement, but has gone stark raving mainstream, taking over the media, university campuses, and even some European governments. It is nightmarishly surreal to me, just freaking insane. How can the West have come to this? Whatever became of freedom? (face palm)</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The PC thought police, a.k.a. Social Justice Warriors or SJW, a.k.a. “crybullies,” are apparently incapable or totally unwilling to see that their preferred form of political correctness is itself sexist, racist, hateful, hypocritical, and stooping to such Orwellian props as thought control and doublethink. They say they’re opposed to sexual discrimination and then cook up new PC words like “mansplain,” which is a derogatory term for explaining things the way a stereotypical man supposedly does it. Even to claim that all men should be killed is considered acceptable, although the opposite (that all women should be killed) would elicit screams of bloody murder—unless maybe Muslims say it, in which case to criticize it would be deemed <i>racist</i>. Recently feminists were rallying to ban Father’s Day in America, based partly on claims that men and fathers are useless. This is all quite acceptable, apparently, yet even publicly to disagree with a woman (as happened in Canada) can land a man in jail. But pointing this out is useless.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One interesting phenomenon is that some liberals and conservatives are joining forces, declaring a new polarity in Western politics: cultural libertarians vs. repressive authoritarians, which seems primarily to imply freedom of thought and expression vs. politically correct thought and feeling control. And it appears that finally, over the past few years, some people (mostly men, but also including many women) have had enough of the insanity and are standing against it, often in a state of outraged indignation. But at this stage in the game, the champions of liberty are the underdogs.</div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p6"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8H06PrNg5b8/VvBRjvCMNOI/AAAAAAAABq0/WFa8r4T05bk-uygZb0iKtqPKcNK_KLEUg/s1600/aaaregretisnotrape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8H06PrNg5b8/VvBRjvCMNOI/AAAAAAAABq0/WFa8r4T05bk-uygZb0iKtqPKcNK_KLEUg/s400/aaaregretisnotrape.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">two cultural libertarians (Lauren and Milo)</span></i></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;peacefully holding up a sign at a feminist “slutwalk,”</span></i></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;with a hostile feminist trying to take it away from them</span></i></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;(shortly after this the two heretics were ejected by the police)</span></i></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="p6"><br /></div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I am really sorry about this whole situation. Maybe it's just that I’m just getting old, but the Western world seems to be going profoundly, self-destructively pathological. I used to consider myself to be more liberal than otherwise, but I feel like the outrageous foolishness and hypocrisy I have seen coming from the “progressive” left is shoving me toward the right. If I were to remain in America, which I probably won’t, then I might even vote for a Republican president for the first time in my life. This is actually an increasingly common phenomenon, with even many young people being driven away from liberalism in utter disgust, if not horror. A more extrem(ist) example is the speed at which neo-Nazi and other ultra-right organizations are growing in Europe recently, as the cluelessly naive liberal feminist politicians are incapable of not driving their countries into cultural and political suicide.&nbsp;</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There is one very fortunate aspect to this dismal situation, however, and that is the colossal weakness of the new dominating force. It is not only an ideology based largely upon easily debunked myths, rhetoric, name-calling, and irrational wishful thinking, thereby lacking a sufficient foundation in truth, but more importantly it is also based upon <i>spinelessness and pathological emotional dysfunction.</i> From the looks of it, all that will be necessary is for those fighting back to clap their hands loudly and many of these emotional weaklings will be triggered into having meltdowns. They seemingly can be traumatized by a dropping hat. As you may notice from my language, this whole situation has me somewhat exasperated. It’s enough to make me want to punch a metrosexual.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So, I should cool down a little and inject some Dharma. This is, after all, an ostensibly Buddhist blog. Therefore I point out here that the central point of political correctness hysteria, its moral nucleus, is practically the <i>opposite</i> of Dharma. It is based on the colossal lie that one’s own unhappiness is not one’s own responsibility, and that one should therefore blame somebody else for it. If you say or do something that triggers me, regardless of what it is or what your intentions are, then you are causing me suffering and victimizing me, and you must be stopped—that’s essentially the idea. Your rights end where my feelings begin. And apparently this attitude is creating the victim culture which is justifying people’s resentment, self-pity, emotional instability, and misery, discouraging them from accepting responsibility for their own happiness and unhappiness, resulting in such nonsense as <i>microaggression</i>, in which the supposed aggressor is totally oblivious to just how hurtful he really is. He may even have the best of intentions (like offering his seat on a crowded bus), but he must be <i>stopped</i> because some chronically miserable, foolish malcontent may be offended by it. And evidence does indicate that, ironically, modern Western women are more unhappy now than they were fifty years ago, i.e. more unhappy than they were before they attained the privileges they now enjoy, which in many cases far exceed the privileges of the venomously hated white male. The first and second Noble Truths of Buddhism are totally ignored, even by many who consider themselves to be Buddhists.</div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p6"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WHszA5lN7Uo/VvBRmZwcngI/AAAAAAAABq4/K3DDdHTZneEkFf7J7IcfrJx4KyNJPIjFA/s1600/aaaMcBuddhism.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WHszA5lN7Uo/VvBRmZwcngI/AAAAAAAABq4/K3DDdHTZneEkFf7J7IcfrJx4KyNJPIjFA/s1600/aaaMcBuddhism.jpg" /></a></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>McDharma</i></span></div><div class="p6"><br /></div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Furthermore, unfortunately perhaps, the liberal left is the group in the West which primarily favors Buddhism, especially in its form of Vipassana. Consequently, much of the aforementioned political correctness mania is inextricably mixed up with what is casually called “Dharma.” (Spirit Rock reportedly having an image of Buddha <i>and</i> an image of the mythological Tantric goddess Tara on the main altar, for the sake of PC gender equality, is a case in point.) I have recently been informed that there is an American Buddhist organization called Against the Stream, which on its website declares itself dedicated to “rebellion against the system”; but I admit to being very skeptical. For one thing, they claim to derive the ethical standards of their teaching staff from the policies of Spirit Rock! Also, they have one of their largest centers in San Francisco! It may be that the “system” they are rebelling against is that of the racist misogynistic homophobic patriarchy. Or maybe they used to be genuine freedom-loving rebels, but then became popular and conformed to the liberal mainstream. I suppose I am fortunate that within the realm of traditional Theravadin monasticism almost the only symptom of PC mania that I am exposed to is, occasionally, the greater respect that quasi-bhikkhunis receive over the male bhikkhu oppressors among many Western liberals.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So…I am a dinosaur. Oh, wait—I saw on one YouTube video that some school policies have determined the word “dinosaur” unacceptable because it may be <i>offensive</i> to believers in creationism. So I’m a caveman then, and I don’t give a shit whether “caveman” is polite or not. Society has become so freaking insane that I suppose it’s good that I’m giving up and going back to my cave at the edge of a traditional Buddhist culture. Life here is like watching the decline and fall of the Roman Empire all over again. History repeats itself. (Angela Merkel over there in Germany is like the new Valens Augustus, welcoming a huge population of migrant Goths into the Empire. Here in America we are watching the rise of Elagabalus.) But if libertarians, true lovers of liberty and individual rights, ever start becoming Buddhists in large numbers, I may have to come back. And if there is anyone out there who is <i>really </i>rebelling against the increasingly insane system, may they please let me know how I can help with it.</div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p6">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbtHRxMl1XI/VvBSIMGomnI/AAAAAAAABrA/nKHoC1SrIKIRqqqykFmG24VhM2flk_rig/s1600/aaastatue-of-liberty-destroyed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbtHRxMl1XI/VvBSIMGomnI/AAAAAAAABrA/nKHoC1SrIKIRqqqykFmG24VhM2flk_rig/s400/aaastatue-of-liberty-destroyed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p5">&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p6"><br /></div><div class="p5"><i>“I wholly disapprove of what you say—and will defend to the death your right to say it.”&nbsp;</i> —attributed to Voltaire, although maybe he didn’t really say it</div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p6"><br /></div><br /><div class="p5"><b>Appendix: A Select List of Outrageous YouTube Videos</b></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MGhgGDhnWg&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA&amp;index=8" target="_blank">Updated Version of an Old Dylan Song</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2Jlz-tVSFk&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA&amp;index=16" target="_blank">An Exasperated Reaction to PC Propaganda on MTV</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUOkUdL4RjU&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA&amp;index=5" target="_blank">On the Insanity of "Racist Microaggression"</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0la_UwdG15E&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA&amp;index=12" target="_blank">Feminazi Fuckups of 2014</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtzr5tup1N4&amp;list=WL&amp;index=49" target="_blank">Analysis of the New "Postmodern Illness"</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaOLgy3YKtA" target="_blank">On the Liberal Feministic Destruction of Western Europe</a>&nbsp;(!)</div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chXHqIHQeCs&amp;index=15&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA" target="_blank">Chris Ray Gun on Sexual Objectification :-)</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2_DTlRaVzM&amp;index=10&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA" target="_blank">Five Danger Signs of Being a Regressive Liberal</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwOAmqWhf28&amp;list=WL&amp;index=47" target="_blank">Milo Yiannopoulis's Disapproval of Feministic Ultra-Liberalism</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaO-HcxIByw&amp;index=11&amp;list=FLhQJMvdH3Is-fw7rVhYd4uA" target="_blank">Adolf Hitler's Disapproval of Feministic Ultra-Liberalism</a></div><div class="p5"><br /></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p5"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WPK3MepWBK0/Vw1C5YCGWBI/AAAAAAAABs4/Zg067TPQM3wQd3bR_WCtp7DRlS-aMUimgCLcB/s1600/anita%2Beverything.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WPK3MepWBK0/Vw1C5YCGWBI/AAAAAAAABs4/Zg067TPQM3wQd3bR_WCtp7DRlS-aMUimgCLcB/s1600/anita%2Beverything.gif" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(Anita Sarkeesian, the Darth Vader of neo-feminism)</span></i></div></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p5"><b><br /></b></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-31003342943326216382016-03-26T11:58:00.000-07:002016-03-26T17:33:11.210-07:00The End of the American Rope (I Give Up)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I was considering letting this be the very last post on this here blog before shutting the thing down, for reasons which ought to be woefully obvious to regular readers. But, I’ve already written a few more posts which haven’t been published yet, and I do enjoy writing, usually, and it helps to keep me out of trouble while I’m here in Babylon, sort of, so what the hell. This won’t be the last post, although it appears the end is near. This one is pretty much the end of the last chapter of this tragicomedy, however, with everything that comes after being by way of epilogue. I will try to restrain urges to let this degenerate into an impassioned tirade, at least until I am near the end, although I may change my mind and start ranting at any moment. Today I’ve been feeling less disgusted, indignant, disillusioned, and heart-achy than usual lately (lucky for you), so I was actually thinking maybe I should hold off on writing this until I’m more worked up; but let’s just get on with it.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I suppose I should start with a rather simplistic synopsis of the flight of the lead balloon, or whatever it is, which will be review for some of you who are already familiar with the story.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In the summer of 1991 I officially renounced the world and became a Theravada Buddhist monk. I did this mainly for two reasons: I wanted to dedicate my life to the cultivation of wisdom, and to understanding Reality, considering that to be the worthiest thing I could do with my life; and also I could not take American culture seriously—it is just too shallow, too superficial, too confining for me to find deep satisfaction in it. It may be that just about any worldly culture would be the same, and the wisest philosophies and spiritual movements tend to agree that wallowing in a worldly life is an obstacle to realization.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; My primary interest as a new monk was to follow the teaching of Gotama Buddha as closely as I could. I had zero interest in conforming to American-style Buddhism, to which I had almost no exposure anyway, and I also had little or no interest in conforming to traditional Southeast Asian “ethnic” Buddhism. I wanted to follow what the Buddha originally taught as purely as I could, so I kept my eyes on the Suttas and Vinaya and tried to live like an ancient Indian Buddhist ascetic.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Before long this resulted in me being an outsider even to the Sangha, and driving myself harder and harder until I was living alone in caves in remote tropical forests and semi-desert wastelands. I followed the rules as strictly as I could manage, and over the course of my first ten years or so as a bhikkhu I figured I was averaging about six hours of formal sitting meditation per day. If enlightenment was possible for me, I was determined to find it, and not by ignoring or simplifying Dhamma to make it more convenient. (If I were a Jew I would have to be kosher, and if I were a Christian I would have to take seriously such universally ignored tenets as “Gather not up your treasures upon the earth.”) For years I was a radical fundamentalist Buddhist, perhaps bordering on fanaticism in my profound desire to follow Dhamma.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Burmese villagers revere monks in general, in accordance with their Buddhist tradition, and they respected and loved me for renouncing my own world in order to live in poverty in theirs, out of respect for their own religion; and the fact that I was practicing so strictly and conscientiously besides had many of them considering me to be a saint, possibly even a fully enlightened being. To this day in certain areas of Burma people make offerings at little shrines dedicated to my honor, or so I have been told. Burmese villagers are very poor in a physical sense, but they were eager and honored to offer support.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; After many years in Burma, though, I began burning out. Mainly it was the isolation and the blazing tropical heat. I started telling my best supporter that if I stayed there much longer I would go insane or die. I made some effort to come back to America, but by this time my father was dead, my former supporters in America, what few I had, had drifted out of contact, and I didn’t know how to leave. Lousy communications (this was before the country opened up and before Internet was available) almost ensured that I would remain in life-long exile.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; By this time I felt that I had learned much of value from my practice and experiences, and that it could be good, for others as well as for me personally, if I returned to the West and shared this in some kind of interaction. I knew that the overwhelming majority of Westerners, possibly even the overwhelming majority of Western Buddhists, wouldn’t be interested, but it seemed extremely likely, pretty much a certainty even, that there would be <i>some </i>kindred spirits who could appreciate someone like me, and would be willing to form some kind of symbiosis. I didn’t want reverence so much as someone who could appreciate what I could share, and could communicate with me—being more philosopher than priest. Going back to America really seemed like the thing to do, essentially the next step in my practice.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Yet because of lack of communications with people in America while I was in solitude in Burma, there seemed to be no obvious way of returning. Finally, with the help of a generous Burmese donor, I took a huge leap of faith and just flew back to my old home town of Bellingham. I knew only one person there by this time, and I couldn’t just move in with him indefinitely, but I felt that Bellingham had a noticeably higher level of consciousness than most cities, and it is a beautiful place, and I felt the need to move <i>somewhere</i>, so I took the plunge and started the great adventure. I wasn’t even sure if anyone would meet me at the airport.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I had come back briefly a few times over the years to visit my parents, but this time, coming back indefinitely and in need of support, the strange, amazing ordeal began, probably a stranger shock to my system than when I first went to Asia. I really felt that I had something of great value to offer, and there have been Western people who agree with me on that, but the difference between Buddhism in Burma and Buddhism in America was like the difference between day and night, with America being night. It was like diving into ice water, the contrast was so great.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; From the beginning I met with indifference. The representative of the local Vipassana group in Bellingham didn’t even answer my emails introducing myself. (This has proven to be quite common actually; about half of Western Buddhist organizations do not reply.) As I have mentioned elsewhere on this blog, I met with at least as much cool disdain inside the local Dharma hall as outside on the streets of Bellingham. Polite standoffishness was the most common attitude, with some anxiety apparent on the part of the teachers of the group that I might somehow attempt to “take over” the organization.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; To complicate matters somewhat, the only person in town to offer shelter, and desire eagerly what I could teach her, was a young, unmarried American woman. I moved into a greenhouse in her back yard, at her enthusiastic invitation. In addition to providing shelter, she also was providing most of the food I ate, sometimes feeding me five days out of seven, and she organized most of the other support I received. We were overwhelmed with gratitude for each other, and eventually fell in love. After it ended, and I admitted to all of it publicly, the board of directors of the local Vipassana group used it as a golden opportunity to be rid of me once and for all and unanimously excommunicated me from their “sangha”—although this was obviously a case of jumping at the opportunity to make official what many of them had been doing unofficially from the beginning. Even before I was finally excommunicated in 2013 I was living on the floor of a massage studio, fasting once a week to reduce the burden on my few supporters, and eating corn chips and cheese two or three additional days per week, which food was bought with money donated by Burmese Buddhists in California.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The “Let This Be a Lesson” episode has been seen by others also as a justification for non-support, although possibly none of them would have supported me in any case. I will say that the only time when my efforts to live supported by my fellow Americans seemed to be working was when my great benefactress and spiritual sweetheart was acting as a kind of agent or business manager, in some ways compensating for my own lack of (or disdain for) social skills, my aversion for hyping myself, and the rules of discipline preventing me from doing my own business. It appears that without some kind of manager it just doesn’t work. Also, I consider our romance, even though it was not consummated in the biological sense (as I did manage to remain celibate), to be the most profound and beautiful experience I have had since coming back to America in 2011. Even though it eventually hit the rocks and resulted in a great deal of unhappiness, I feel it was still well worth it, and cannot possibly regret it, even though I’m not planning to repeat the experience.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, the thundering silence of the Buddhists of Bellingham was apparently no anomaly, as American Buddhists in general seem to be pretty similar in this regard. In addition to almost total lack of interest in what I can teach, there has been almost zero interest in providing a senior Buddhist monk (me) with even the bare necessities of existence—food and shelter. Needless to say, this also indicates a lack of motivation to help a fellow human being.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A common observation is that Westerners aren’t familiar with supporting the minimal needs of an ascetic bhikkhu. This is no doubt true; although it is also true that virtually nobody is willing to learn. They just don’t see the point, and don’t want to see it. Often it is simply a convenient excuse for apathy, or indifference, or whatever. American Buddhists prefer to cling to the familiar, with their Buddhism modified and lukewarmified to fit with that. I am reminded of a senior teacher of the group in Bellingham saying that she wouldn’t support me because she did not know what lineage I came from—although I had offered the information in the past, and she had made zero effort to find out, and continued to make zero effort. It was a convenient rationalization, although perhaps not a very rational one.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A similar issue involves the idea, considered by some Western Buddhists to be quite reasonable, that the Buddhists of Bellingham were justified in not offering support to the only Buddhist monk in town because they had not invited me. But consider such an attitude in ancient India: Let’s say a wandering monk happens to pass through a village. The villagers, considering themselves to be Buddhists, say nevertheless, “Let’s view this monk with suspicion for <i>three years or so</i> before deciding whether or not to offer him support.” Well, of course Buddhism would have died out in ancient times, wouldn’t it. For that matter, why gives alms to a street beggar? You didn’t invite him. Why support your aging mother? You didn’t invite her either. Generosity makes little sense in a consumeristic society.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So of course, from the beginning Americans have been urging me to live at an established monastery. “Go stay at a temple!” they have said. For the most part this entails choosing between the Ajahn Chah tradition and Asian “ethnic” Buddhism; and neither is really for me, for reasons I needn’t go into and which most readers wouldn’t understand anyhow. Westerners tend to have only the vaguest notions of what monasteries are like, or are supposed to be like. If there is a monastery in the West where I would really fit in, I don’t know where it is. I have been staying at a little Burmese house-temple in California for the past several months, where the Burmese offer plentiful support, and where I meet approximately one Westerner per week, and usually the same guy. He’s a good guy though. But I figure it’s better just to go back to Burma, because the Euro-Americans obviously don’t give a damn. I get more physical exercise there also, have many more options, and actually have more freedom.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Considering that Westerners are supposedly openminded, and that Western culture in general is spiritually bankrupt and unsatisfying, the failure to find kindred spirits willing to make the effort to have me around has struck me again and again as a kind of bizarre anti-miracle. It’s totally amazing to me, especially considering the enthusiastic support in other parts of the world. I have tried to understand it, and have written several posts on this blog attempting to analyze various aspects of the situation. Obviously there isn’t just one big reason, but apparently very many, maybe twenty or more that I could list. Maybe thirty. Recently in a mood of despairing wonder I asked a Canadian man who has offered long-distance support from time to time what his explanation was. His response is interesting, and worth repeating:</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s1"><i>Making connections isn't just about whether or not people 'accept' your style of Dharma, but whether they are motivated enough by you to actually make contact and form a relationship. I think much of it is more dependent on charisma and social skills than anything else: It doesn't matter how damn enlightened you are, if people don't find it compelling to interact with you, they won't want to. Just look at how pleasant and charismatic most Western dharma teachers are: half therapist, half entertainer, they make it very easy to connect to.&nbsp;</i></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s1"><i>I've seen the mistake made more than once that monastics expect the same sort of piety and respect from Western layfolk that they received in the East. Yuttadhammo made the same mistake, but he worked extremely hard to put out massive amount of content on YouTube and to involve people-- he would get them to come to his various monasteries he set up, train them and ordain them as novices. He built his following as a missionary would.</i></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="s1"><i>Also I think your style of dharma is also partly to blame: your explicitness and skepticism removes much of the mystique people find compelling in other teachers.</i></span></blockquote><div class="p6"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; With regard to this I would just point out, again, that it’s not so much “piety and respect” that I’ve been looking for as simple food and shelter. Even that has been too much to expect in the West, unless it is supplied by foreign immigrants. And if having spent half my adult life as an ascetic in caves lacks “mystique,” then I am incapable of it, period.</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But there is no point in yet another attempt to analyze the almost total unwillingness of American Buddhists to support me, or for that matter to support practice above an elementary level. I will just add to the pile of reasons that my own motives are presumably impure to the point of giving me some hellaciously obstructive karma. The Universe is apparently insisting, really insisting, that I give up and spend the rest of my life in solitude in a tropical Asian forest, so I may as well bow my head, give up, and go.</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Before moving on though, I will mention that sometimes I almost wish that America’s lack of interest in keeping me alive were entirely my own fault—simply a matter of impure motives and an obnoxious personality. But the fact remains that non-support of renunciants in America is practically <i>universal.</i> All monks in America that I am aware of are supported primarily by Asians. American Buddhists are not only unwilling to practice Dhamma as the top priority in their lives (and most people even in devoutly Buddhist cultures are the same in this), but they are also unwilling to support those who are willing. Thus American Buddhism has effectively abolished renunciation, along with the primary purpose of Dhamma: enlightenment in this very life. Dhamma is not merely decapitated, everything is cut off above the knees.</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One interesting point to me is that I encountered a great dilemma in the West: As mentioned earlier I haven’t been able to take American culture as a whole very seriously, and that includes American Buddhism of course, most of which I would call “McBuddhism.” Rather than finding Americans turning to Dhamma because, like me, they are looking for a better way of&nbsp; life, practically all of them are clinging to the old way of life and force-fitting Buddhism into the spiritually bankrupt container. The kindred spirits I was so confident of finding are so extremely few and so thinly scattered across the world that they make little practical difference, except maybe at some ethereal level. So the dilemma is that I refuse to be hypocritical on the subject and, although I don’t always dwell on it, I don’t always conceal the fact that what most people in the West are seriously calling Buddhism I consider to be a corrupt farce. At least I’m not insulting their religion by it, since Buddhism isn’t their religion anyway. And I’m not insulting them personally, partly because they’re too lukewarm and apathetic to be insulted by it. Maybe I should be saying “you” instead of “them,” since statistically speaking you, the reader, probably fit the qualifications; but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. It doesn’t matter anyway.</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Maybe it is a personality defect that I insist upon standing outside the system, just about any system. Pretty much everything I write is an examination of some system or other from the outside. This is actually very valuable; but not only most Americans, or most Westerners, but human beings in general, 99.999% of us, insist not only on standing within the system, but on being enslaved to it, and wallowing in it. One reason why Burmese Buddhists support me so avidly, aside from being very generous and hospitable people anyway, is because they believe, bless their hearts, that I stand within <i>their</i> system, although really I do not, except maybe at the edge of it, as an accidental side effect. Those who do not stand within the accepted system are a threat to the majority’s peace of mind.</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So I have spent my life painting myself into a corner, metaphorically speaking. I am not only a misfit and outcast, but I insist upon being one as a matter of principle. I must continue with it also, and have no real regrets over how I have lived my life. If I had these past few years to live over again there would probably be only some minor adjustments, and it still wouldn’t work out. I’d wind up in the same situation as now. </span><span class="s2">I thought there would be others who could benefit from my nonconformity, but apparently I was mistaken; but regardless of whether I am alone or with other kindred spirits, I have to live according to my own conscience and reason, and not follow along with the conformist herd.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p7">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I do hope this blog has been of benefit to somebody, that it has helped at least one person out there to be at least a little more awake, a little less entangled in the phenomenal mess called Samsara. Based on the communications I have received, this blog seems to appeal mostly to loners, to those who are unimpressed by their local Buddhist group and are looking for something more satisfying. I am very glad you are out there, and wish you luck. But even the loners appear to be pretty lukewarm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p7">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Well, thus far I’ve managed to write this thing without losing my cool and breaking into a fiery rant, although it has been meandering unsteadily all over the place. I guess I’m just too weary of the whole joke to get good and fired up. So I’ll add a succulent passage from a previous post, one written shortly after my formal excommunication from the blind leading the blind.&nbsp;</div><div class="p8"><br /></div><div class="p9"><span class="s1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When I was young and Diogenes was my hero, I rebelled against society. I no longer rebel against it; now I'm content just to renounce it, more or less. It seems madness and futility to rebel against 99.99% of the human race. I'm willing to let society be. I don't really rebel against the Bhikkhu Sangha either, although I renounced that institution also, more or less, when I was still a young monk, still not at my peak of strictness, after realizing that more than 95% of bhikkhus don't seriously practice Dhamma or Vinaya (and that is not an exaggeration). For years I avoided the company of other monks whenever it was convenient to do so. But now, in my less fanatical maturity perhaps, I'm willing to let the Bhikkhu Sangha be also, and am more willing to associate with my colleagues in that organization, whether or not they are willing to associate with me.</span></div><div class="p9"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But there is one institution that I still consider worth my while to rebel against: and that is what many (but certainly not all) people in America are pleased to call "Theravada Buddhism"—a movement in which laypeople who may not take three refuges or keep five precepts call themselves "Sangha," and if they <i>do</i> take refuge in the Sangha, take refuge in themselves; in which the members believe more deeply in scientific materialism and politically correct humanism than in Dhamma; in which even many teachers do not believe in fundamental principles of Buddhism, even Nibbana, because scientific materialism cannot explain it; in which the members sew new patches onto old cloth, and are essentially worldly materialists with a little Buddhist flavoring added; in which the possibility of miracles is rejected out of hand; in which monks are required to be politically correct, smiling politicians, or saints, in order to be considered the <i>equals</i> of the lay community; in which a monk must prove himself <i>worthy</i> of even receiving a bowl of food every day; in which many of the teachers are more ignorant of the Buddhist texts than a typical Burmese villager with a grade school education; in which most of Theravada Buddhism is rejected or ignored, with the system reduced to little more than a few elementary meditation techniques, being a pale shadow of a mutilated fragment of Dhamma; in which complacent lukewarmness is standard, with anything more than that being considered extreme, unnecessary, or "cultish"; in which truth is covered up with phony politeness for the sake of not ruffling feathers, or threatening people's fragile self-esteem; in which true renunciation is scorned; in which austerity is pretty much a nonstarter, with luxury and wimpiness being virtually mandatory (with the Goenka folks not culpable of this one); in which "sacred" is regarded as a superstitious word; in which Liberation in this very life has been replaced by enhancing the quality of their mental prisons, because the members are unwilling to go beyond a very casual and elementary level of commitment; in which a radical way of life designed for enlightenment has been rejected in favor of watered-down, soft, easy, convenient, comfortable, non-threatening, politically correct fluff designed to help them stay more comfortably asleep—THAT I rebel against. I lift my lower robes and fart in its general direction.</span></div><div class="p10"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p9"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There you are. To those of you who have generously offered support in the past (and there are some), and to any of you who really have derived benefit from my presence, I do apologize for all this. But even so…fuck it. I quit. As a large alien humanoid once said on the old <i>Star Trek</i>, and as I used to say to myself while sitting alone in Burmese forests, “My life is forfeit.” As the Burmese say, becoming a monk is a form of suicide. It’s pointless to say any more—in fact it was probably pointless to say most of what is above, since maybe nobody gives a damn anyway. Better to spend the rest of my life in exile, and in solitude.</span><span class="s2"> &nbsp;</span></div><div class="p11"><br /></div><div class="p12"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p12"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c47uYwhMXwQ/VuMoRHG-qbI/AAAAAAAABp4/d7po-Bt9C30p64CvwVi5QPIMWYHPMq8UA/s1600/Drunk%2BSanta.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c47uYwhMXwQ/VuMoRHG-qbI/AAAAAAAABp4/d7po-Bt9C30p64CvwVi5QPIMWYHPMq8UA/s400/Drunk%2BSanta.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p12" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="p12"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p12"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-5628857269420224852016-03-19T13:06:00.001-07:002016-03-19T13:06:43.811-07:00Upheavals (part 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /><i></i></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Fear has arisen from an uptaken stick:&nbsp;</i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Look at people in conflict.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I shall relate to you a feeling of&nbsp; deep urgency,&nbsp;</i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; How it was felt by me.</i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Having seen mankind thrashing about&nbsp;</i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Like fishes in little water,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Obstructed by one another—<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Having seen, fear took hold of me. <br /></i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The world was entirely without substance;&nbsp;</i></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; All the quarters were shaken.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Wanting a settled abiding for myself<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I saw nothing that had not succumbed. </i><br /></span></div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;(—attributed to the Buddha, in the Attadaṇḍa Sutta of the Sutta-Nipāta)</div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In part 1 I discussed the phenomenon, or principle, or theory, of profound psychological changes, especially spiritual awakenings, occurring as the result of a crisis, or despair, or being at wit’s end. Here I intend to discuss the two main ways in which these life-changing crises can occur: they can be more or less accidental, or more or less intentionally cultivated.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The accidental way appears to be much more common, and in the West it is almost the only way, since few people in the West nowadays try deliberately to bring themselves to a crisis, or try for spiritual awakening with such wholehearted intensity that they arrive at a cataclysmic breakdown. This sort of awakening can happen to people who are not involved at all in spiritual matters—in fact, a deep, sensitive person who has been guided into a life of superficial worldliness may experience the crisis as a result of sheer frustration and despair from a lifestyle that is profoundly unsatisfying.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One form of this that is fairly common in the world is that great misfortune may inspire a person, maybe an average Joe (or Mary Jo) living a relatively ordinary life, to reexamine the value of his or her existence. In other words, it may serve as a beneficial wakeup call, a blessing in wolves’ clothing. For example, I used to know a person who was very materialistic, and rather shallow and self-centered. Then she got cancer, and was suddenly faced with her own mortality. It scared the hell out of her. She fortunately survived the illness, and afterward she was noticeably much more thoughtful, sensitive, and unselfish. She became a better person because of it. I suppose quite a lot of people go through experiences like this. It is one reason why a misfortune is not necessarily something to be avoided at all costs.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In fact, this beneficial result of misfortune and pain is a main reason why Buddhists say that a human birth is better than any other. The beings in the heaven realms are happier, but they don’t have suffering acting as a goad driving them toward Dharma. Things are pretty good as they are; and adopting the attitude “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it,” they tend to be little inclined to improve themselves spiritually. And of course the beings in the lower realms, such as animals, lack the knowledge and opportunity to practice or ponder Dharma, even though they may experience plenty of suffering. So although it would be stretching it to say that misfortune and suffering are <i>good</i>, still they are major ingredients in our inspiration to be better. This applies to almost everybody.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; However, more interesting to me, and more to the point of this essay, are the cases in which accidental or unforeseen calamities result in something apparently “supramundane,” in a profound spiritual awakening. One such instance is the case of John Wren-Lewis, a mathematician, scientist, and humanist who allegedly was a leading member of the British “Death of God” movement, and who was not a particularly spiritually-oriented person. When he was about sixty years old he and his wife were traveling through Thailand. On a bus a man gave them both some candy, which was poisoned—as he intended to rob them after they lost consciousness. Wren-Lewis ate the candy, but his wife did not, causing the thief to lose his nerve and get off the bus, and also allowing her to attend to her husband as he became extremely ill. In fact he almost died, and had what is called a near death experience, which in his case was a very mystical one, so that after his recovery his perspective on life was radically altered. After that and up until his death in 2006 he became a teacher of spirituality, claiming to have an abiding mystical awareness which he considered to be more real than the so-called “real world.” &nbsp;</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p3"><span class="s1"><i>The most important experience of my life was in 1983 when I came "to the brink" in a near-death experience (NDE). I found a meaning I'd never dreamed of in Shakespeare's statement that love "looks on tempests and is never shaken." I discovered, in the moment of time-stop, that human consciousness is grounded in the same fundamental energy that moves the sun and other stars and tempests too—an energy for which "love" is the only word we have, though its common sentimental associations are hopelessly misleading.</i> (—John Wren-Lewis)</span></div><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Wren-Lewis also pointed out that brain damage or serious injury is not necessary for a near death experience such as the one he had on the bus in Thailand; for example he mentioned mountain climbers who fell from cliffs, and who experienced the extreme slowing of time, their entire life vividly flashing into memory practically simultaneously, mystical experiences, etc., while falling, only to land unharmed in deep snow at the bottom. It’s the extremity of the crisis, not oxygen deprivation or whatever, that triggers it.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A much more famous case of crisis-induced accidental awakening was that experienced by the allegedly enlightened being Eckhart Tolle. By his own account, until he was thirty years old he “lived in a state of almost continuous anxiety interspersed with periods of suicidal depression.” One night as he lay in bed he was overwhelmed by an unbearable feeling of dread and misery. He began repeating, “I cannot live with myself any longer,” until suddenly he realized that this implied two selves: the “I” and the “myself” that the “I” cannot live with. Then he considered that maybe only one of them was real. This strange idea somehow jolted him into an intense awakening experience which radically changed his life, eventually resulting in him becoming one of the most influential spiritual teachers in the modern world. In his own words:</div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p6"><i>…the intense pressure of suffering that night must have forced my consciousness to withdraw from its identification with the unhappy and deeply fearful self, which is ultimately a fiction of the mind. This withdrawal must have been so complete that this false, suffering self immediately collapsed, just as if a plug had been pulled out of an inflatable toy. What was left then was my true nature…consciousness in its pure state prior to identification with form.</i></div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; My favorite case of all involves the great Hindu saint and sage Ramana Maharshi. He started out in life as a seemingly ordinary Indian kid living as a subject of the British Empire. His Brahmin family was rather westernized and not particularly religious; they went to public festivals and ceremonies at nearby Hindu temples, but not much more than that. He attended a British-style high school and was studying to become, if I remember correctly, an electrical engineer. One day he was home alone doing his homework, when, somewhat like Mr. Tolle, he had what could be called a panic attack. He suddenly felt as though he were dying. He felt that if he were going to die he might as well be prepared, so he lay down on his back on the floor. Since people generally don’t move around when they are dead, he stopped moving, and waited. Then he considered that dead people don’t think, either—so he stopped thinking, to feel what death would be like. At this point, with his thinking process stopped, he suddenly had his great realization. He claimed that those few moments lying on his back as a teenager were the only real spiritual practice he ever did. (In later years if he would tell this story, he wouldn’t say “I did this” or “this happened to me,” as he no longer considered himself to be a separate individual, apparently no longer identifying with an ego; if it became necessary to refer to himself personally, he would simply point to his chest and say “this.”)&nbsp;</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Continuing a bit with the story, he attempted at first to continue being an ordinary Indian high school student, but his heart just wasn’t in it anymore, and he much preferred just sitting in meditation. One day his brother, a college student, seeing him ignoring his schoolbooks and sitting as though in a trance, exclaimed in disgust, “Oh, you might as well just go off and become a sadhu!” Although he was being sarcastic, the young Maharshi knew that he was right, and shortly afterwards he ran away from home to renounce the world. Because his upbringing wasn’t particularly religious he didn’t know where to go; but he had heard of a hill sacred to the god Shiva which was not far away, so he went there. Upon arrival he had his head shaved, gave away his Brahmin earrings, threw away his sacred thread, tore a strip of cloth off his clothing to use as a loincloth and discarded the rest, and sat down in a nearby temple to meditate. He spent the rest of his life there, at a hill called Arunachala. He’s considered to be one of the greatest Hindu saints of the twentieth century.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Although inadvertent crisis-induced awakenings may be the most common, still there are obvious advantages to triggering them deliberately. It not only increases significantly the odds of the awakening happening, but it may obviate the need for a car wreck or a dangerous illness. The conditions are more controlled, and rather safer. Also, it much increases the odds that a wise teacher will be nearby to assist in any “reorientation” that may be necessary; or at least it may provide the subject himself or herself with some theoretical or practical knowledge to help as a guide through the aftereffects of the crisis. The crisis itself, however, presumably still has to be a real crisis: making it too controlled and safe and non-threatening could prevent any possible breakthrough. One still has to go through the wringer.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Early forms of crisis-induced spirituality dating back to the Stone Age would include so-called vision quests. Techniques for facilitating the “vision” include, but are not limited to, fasting, sleep deprivation, exposure to the elements, self-torture, and simply being scared witless. I have been told that a traditional Alaskan Eskimo method for initiating young shamans is to send them out into a wilderness with no food or water, with the instructions to find a fist-sized round stone and a larger, circular flat one, and to sit on the ground and rub the small stone on the flat one, in a circular motion, without eating, drinking, sleeping, or stopping, until the vision finally comes. It may take days. Obviously, they have little choice but to have a crisis. The vision quests of the American Plains Indians tend to be rather more elaborate than this, and developed into more of a ceremony, although with essentially the same stress-inducing purpose. The ayahuasca ceremonies of South American Indians and New Age Westerners are a well-known example nowadays; and anyone who has undergone the ordeal of ayahuasca can vouch for the fact that one if its main spiritual benefits is a more or less violent purge of habitual thought patterns.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A striking example of this principle among the more well-known religious systems is what occurred during the early decades of the Methodist Church in rural England, which I have discussed in a previous article. The evangelist John Wesley developed a way of preaching sermons that would have people literally undergoing mental breakdowns. In the 18th century most English people, especially in the countryside, could not doubt the authority of the Christian Bible; so Wesley would hammer away at the incontrovertible “fact” that if people do not repent and change their ways, they will burn in Hell forever and ever. He would then describe in gruesome detail the torments of Hell that awaited all who didn’t repent. The listeners very much did not want to believe what he said, but on the other hand were compelled by their culture to believe it—flinging them into such an emotional crisis that many of them would fall to the floor convulsing and foaming at the mouth, after which they would lose consciousness. After they regained their senses, with some subsequent coaching from Methodist teachers, they would be Born Again, and would adopt a much more saintly Christian lifestyle with rejoicing and gratitude. It could be called brainwashing of a sort, but most of them were very grateful for it, and apparently were better and happier people after the religious meltdown.&nbsp;</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Possibly a more sophisticated, enlightened approach to cultivated mental breakdown can be found in Zen Buddhism, with its emphasis on koans. A koan is a riddle with no answer; yet a Zen practitioner may be <i>required</i> to answer it. It is his sacred duty to answer it. He grinds away at trying to find the impossible solution to the riddle until his thinking mind finally reads “error” and comes to a stop—whereupon the truth that lies beyond the thinking mind becomes manifest.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The paradoxical approach of Zen to Reality can itself be conducive to crisis-induced Awakening. The following koan, case 15 of the <i>Mumonkan</i>, gives some indication of this without anyone even having to sit in meditation:</div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p5"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Tōzan came to study with Ummon. Ummon asked, “Where are you from?” “From Sato,” Tōzan replied. “Where did you spend the summer retreat?” “Well, I was at the monastery of Hōzu, south of the lake.” “When did you leave there?” Ummon asked. “At the end of August,” Tōzan replied. “I spare you sixty blows,” Ummon said.</i></div><div class="p5"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The next day Tōzan came to Ummon and said, “Yesterday you said you spared me sixty blows. I beg to ask you, where was I at fault?” “Oh, you are good for nothing!” Ummon roared. “You just wander around from one place to another!” Tōzan thereupon experienced a profound enlightenment.</i></div><div class="p4">&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="p5">Think about it. If you can explain it, you win! In Katsuki Sekida’s commentary to this case, he observes,</div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p5"><i>All night Tōzan had tossed and turned sleeplessly, trying to work out where he had gone wrong. He could find no answer to his rigorous self-searching and came to Ummon in a desperate state of mind. This is the condition that the skillful Zen master brings about by timely beating or harsh words. When the student has been brought to this extreme an explosion occurs, just as a ripe pea pod bursts open at the touch of a finger.</i></div><div class="p4"><br /></div><div class="p5">I may as well add that, at a deep level, Ummon’s bellowed reproof was absolutely right, and Tōzan realized this. Ummon himself, legend has it, became enlightened when his own teacher broke Ummon’s leg while slamming it in a door.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In Theravada this principle of crisis opening the door to enlightenment is less emphasized and less obvious, but it is still there—although it was much more there in ancient times, when it was closer to what the Buddha actually taught and experienced for himself. The lifestyle of a primordial Buddhist renunciant, living homeless and without money, begging for his food in the streets, being exposed to the weather as well as parasites, dangerous animals, and antagonistic humans, was itself fairly crisis-inducing. Add to that the ancient Indian attitude, taken very seriously, of the whole world being a great mass of suffering, a cosmic conflagration, and an early Buddhist was well set up for a profound existential breakthrough. &nbsp;</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I would prefer not to save my own case for last, so I will give a few examples from my own life here, since my practice has been more Theravadin than otherwise. I’m pretty sure that both incidents to be related have been described elsewhere on this blog, but they are worth repeating.&nbsp;</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One time, when my attempts to imitate ancient Indian bhikkhus were going full blast, I was living under a rock ledge at the edge of a large, malarial Burmese forest. Living in solitude like this was already somewhat of a strain, with a noble yet perhaps unrealistic and impossible ideal in my head being even more of one; yet what eventually put me over the edge, so to speak, was prolonged, sweltering hot, humid weather. There were times when I would go for days without being able to be comfortable or to stop sweating, except while sitting in a creek. Even in the middle of the night I’d be lying there on the ground sweating. Finally one night I snapped and was pacing furiously back and forth like a caged leopard, raging inwardly. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. Then suddenly there was a shift of consciousness. It was as though my misery went right off the scale, ejecting me from the box I was in: I was still pacing and raging and sweating profusely, yet there was another level of consciousness involved, just observing with complete detachment. It was as though I had suddenly become an actor merely playing the role of someone quietly throwing a desperate conniption. The conniption continued, but the “person” throwing it stopped being the center of attention, and became almost irrelevant, as did the whole point of the desparation itself.&nbsp;</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; On another occasion I had been feeling a vague, quiet despair and sense of futility with regard to my practice for about a year. I was walking down some stone steps through a forest on my way to the monastery well to take a bath, and suddenly I began feeling intensely painful stomach cramps. (Such an event was not particularly uncommon—with no electricity and no refrigeration, as well as little concept of hygiene on the part of the villagers who offered me food, eating food that had gone a bit “off,” like some spoiled shrimp curry, did happen from time to time.) I was doubled over, holding my belly and thinking that what this meant was that I would be making three or four emergency trips to the outhouse that night. Then, at around the same time, it started raining. I had no umbrella with me and no extra set of clothes at all, so I was also thinking that I’d be wearing wet clothes the next morning, until my body heat dried them out. So there I was, doubled over in pain, with a look on my face as though I were dying, with the midnight trots and a wetly-clothed morning to look forward to…and again, suddenly there was a shift in consciousness. It seemed like all the pain and trouble and commotion were like waves on the surface of a storm-tossed lake, with “me,” or rather my new center of attention, deep below it in water that was calm and still. I remember feeling as though I were looking up through the still water at the trouble and commotion at the surface, being quite detached from it; and although my body was still doubled over in pain, with a grimace indicating I was dying, the profound blessing of experiencing even the possibility of such detachment and bliss had me so happy and so grateful that I was on the verge of weeping tears of joy and gratitude.</div><div class="p5">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Such experiences could be called glimpses or brief approximations of enlightenment; and although they didn’t last, they stay with me as reminders of what is possible. They serve as frames of reference which help me to maintain a detached perspective while wallowing in this world. They didn’t last, but nothing lasts really. Everything that has a beginning also has an end. But I do feel intuitively that the source of that higher perspective, which I have experienced many times, may have no beginning and no end. I consider such experiences to be possibly the most important of my life, and well worth all the desperation and trouble that helped to trigger some of them, or maybe all of them.</div><div class="p7"><span class="s2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Moving on to Theravada as found in the Suttanta, I’ll give two more examples. One is venerable Godhika, whose story is told in </span><span class="s1">the Saṁyutta Nikāya (S.1.4.23). A rather desperate crisis in his practice inspired him to commit suicide; and the of course emotionally intense experience of cutting his own throat, in addition to the preliminary crisis, happened to trigger the realization of full enlightenment. He died and became an Arahant at the same moment. In fact there are some teachers, like Ramana Maharshi and Eckhart Tolle for instance, who say that the moment of death, or the moment immediately before it, is a golden opportunity for liberation from Samsara (totally setting aside the materialist notion that everyone is liberated at death regardless). Godhika is not the only one to have become enlightened at the moment of death, allegedly.</span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another example from the texts is the non-Buddhist renunciant Bāhiya, whose tale is told in the Bāhiya Sutta of the Udāna (Ud.1.10). He was relatively advanced spiritually, and began considering himself to be possibly already enlightened; and upon realizing that he <i>wan’t</i> enlightened, he was overwhelmed with a feeling of intense urgency (<i>saṁvega</i>), and set out immediately to find the Buddha, of whom he had just heard, and to learn from him. He was in such a highly wrought state of tension that just a few words from the Buddha standing in the street were enough to trigger his realization.</span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Of course we can listen to such stories with mild interest (at best), largely because we modern Westerners are almost immune to feelings of deep spiritual urgency. Almost. Even so, it helps to be very sincere about what we are doing, and really to put our whole heart into it—if only because it is only then that we arrive at complete despair when we hit the stone wall.</span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Nowadays, especially in the West, crisis-induced spiritual breakthroughs are most likely to occur at relatively intensive meditation retreats, as was mentioned in part 1; or else they are of the accidental variety, with maybe some elementary Buddhist training serving to guide the person through the aftereffects of the crisis. But for the most part Dhamma practice has devolved into a comfortable, safe, non-threatening hobby (in the West) or cultural tradition (in the East) which is not particularly conducive to enlightenment and is not even directed toward it. The modern mania for safety and comfort have practically guaranteed that spiritual mediocrity and lukewarmness prevail, especially in the West. So again, we mostly wind up with the accidental kind, possibly along with some kind of terminal disease.</span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Some years ago I watched an interview with Ram Dass, the video itself probably being some years old at the time; and in this interview Ram Dass made the interesting statement that he was a member of an organization which promoted whatever would cause the greatest heightening of consciousness for the greatest number of people, even if that necessitated World War Three. It is a strange reminder that misfortunes, and especially terrible calamities, spontaneously evoke the best and noblest in people, not only the worst.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, I’m not suggesting that we should all go out and cause a cataclysm, or catch a life-threatening disease—calamities have a way of happening without our trying for them, so there is no need for that. Besides, doing it on purpose causes bad karma, and is cheating besides. What I am suggesting is that if we do practice Dhamma/Dharma, we should do it wholeheartedly, and as well as we can, regardless of whether or not we are destined to hit a stone wall in the process. Lukewarmness just isn’t going work so well.</span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1"><br /></span></div><div class="p7"><span class="s1"><br /></span></div><div class="p8"><span class="s1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span></div><div class="p9"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gWJUc3A3wH0/VuSqhjMQ1sI/AAAAAAAABqY/AJsUeE-oIHoRVlELMqXwmrZ4eL4-hNsOQ/s1600/ramana%2Bmaharshi%2Band%2Btiger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gWJUc3A3wH0/VuSqhjMQ1sI/AAAAAAAABqY/AJsUeE-oIHoRVlELMqXwmrZ4eL4-hNsOQ/s400/ramana%2Bmaharshi%2Band%2Btiger.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p9" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Ramana Maharshi</i></span>&nbsp;</div><div class="p10">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p10"><br /></div><div class="p10"><br /></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Why is it that something like a close brush with death is normally needed for the heavenliness of the world to be experienced? (And even that works in only a minority of cases!) The film's answer [the film being </i>Fearless<i>, starring Jeff Bridges], if I understand it right, seems to be that the natural biological fear-response seems to have gotten out of hand in the human species, to the point where it governs the whole organization of social life down to the minutest detail, blocking out aliveness in the process. For the fortunate minority, coming close to death unravels the knot, but then we have the problem of finding out how to organize practical affairs with fear as life's servant rather than its master, something about which even the world's greatest mystics and religious teachers have left us only very partial blueprints.</i> —John Wren-Lewis</blockquote><div class="p10"><br /></div><div class="p10"><br /></div><div class="p10"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-22584363519275064292016-03-12T13:47:00.000-08:002016-03-12T22:14:15.480-08:00Upheavals (part 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p1"><i>Man’s extremity is gawd’s opportunity. </i>—old proverb</div><div class="p1"><i><br /></i><i>We had diarrhea attacks in the middle of the night and shit ourselves raw under the shelter of jujube trees in pure moonlight.</i> —Conor Mitchell</div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This post is one of the last that I’ve been intending to write for years, possibly since the very beginning of this blog in 2012. I’ve been putting it off largely because it’s a long and heavy one. But it’s about time I finally wrote the thing. Not only has it been waiting, but time appears to be running out, as I am considering shutting down this blog indefinitely after I leave the West, or maybe even before. I’ve already written pretty much everything I had intended to write, with a few borderline exceptions, like an analysis of the mystical symbolism of <i>Moby Dick</i>; and also there is the whole giving up and going back to Asia issue, which I discussed in a post already written, but which I don’t quite have the heart to publish just yet. Anyway, I can promise to keep this project rolling until the next anniversary issue, which will be around the start of June. Gawd willing, if I don’t change my mind or die first. So, maybe I don’t promise.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; When I was a teenager I encountered, in one of the first spiritual books I ever read, a statement by Ram Dass that has followed me ever since, especially in my younger days. He said that <i>despair</i> is an absolute prerequisite for significant spiritual growth. He said that only when we hit rock bottom are we willing to let go of old attachments and reach out for something better. Since reading that I have continually hoped that Ram Dass was wrong—and maybe he actually was wrong—but thus far my own experience in life, plus what I have seen in the biographies of saints and in others, appears to vindicate what he said.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It may be, though, that a more accurate term for the necessary factor is “crisis” or even “being at wit’s end” rather than “despair.” Ram Dass’s own account of his most important spiritual awakening in life, the one that resulted in him metamorphosing from Richard Alpert into Ram Dass, would seem to be more crisis-oriented than despair-oriented. It happened like this: Dr. Alpert was a former Harvard psychology professor turned experimental psychedelic drug guru, and he went to India to find a meditation master who could explain some of the states of expanded awareness that he had experienced on drugs (not just euphoria or psychedelic light shows, mind you, but heightened awareness), and possibly even teach him how to attain such states without having to ingest the chemicals. Being a high powered Western overachiever, and also a human being, he had been living in a state of chronic angst, which already had him primed for a crisis; and of course it is a hackneyed truism that all psychologists are emotionally challenged anyhow (<span class="s1">←</span>a small joke). So anyway, he was in India, and had pretty much given up on finding anyone who could help him. He was frustrated, burned out on India, and had been smoking too much hashish besides, and was in a bad mood and ready to give up. But he was traveling with a young American hippie guy who very much wanted to see his guru; so Dr. Alpert, not wanting to meet any more “gurus,” let the young guy drive and came along reluctantly. The hippie was singing loudly and crying as he drove, apparently in a strange mixture of excitement and bliss, which had Dr. Alpert intrigued, though still in a bad mood.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; When they found the guru, a fat little Indian man wrapped in a blanket, the hippie ran to him and feel at his feet, weeping in a kind of ecstasy. Dr. Alpert was very uncomfortable with all this, and very much did not want to touch the old man’s feet. He then engaged in a brief conversation with the guru which left him even more ill at ease. Then the two Americans were sent away for food and rest. The next part of the story I will let Ram Dass tell for himself.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>Sometime later we were back with Maharajji and he said to me, “Come here. Sit.” So I sat down facing him and he looked at me and said, “You were out under the stars last night.” (This, of course, was the English translation of what he said.)</i>&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>“Um-hum.” </i>[In a different telling of the story he said that at first he didn’t remember it himself, and it took him a few moments to recall it.]</div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “You were thinking about your mother.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Yes.” (The previous night a few hundred miles away I had gone outside during the night to go to the bathroom. The stars had been very bright and I had remained outside, feeling very close to the cosmos. At that time I had suddenly experienced the presence of my mother, who had died nine months previously of a spleen condition. It was a very powerful moment, and I had told no one about it.)</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “She died last year.”</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Um-hum.”</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “She got very big in the stomach before she died.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Pause … “Yes.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He leaned back and closed his eyes and said (in English), “Spleen, she died of spleen.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; What happened to me at that moment I can’t really put into words. He looked at me in a certain way and two things happened. They do not seem like cause and effect, but rather appeared to be simultaneous.&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; My mind began to race faster and faster to try to get leverage—to get a hold on what he had just done. I went through every super-CIA paranoia I’d ever had: “Who is he? Who does he represent? Where’s the button he pushes to make the file appear? Why have they brought me here?” None of it would jell.&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It was just too impossible that this could have happened this way. My traveling companion didn’t know about any of the things Maharajji was saying, and I was a tourist in a car. The whole thing was just inexplicable. My mind went faster and faster.</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Until then I had had two models for psychic experiences. One was: “Well it happened to somebody else, and it’s very interesting and we certainly must keep an open mind about these things.” That was my social-science approach. The other one was: “Well, I’m high on LSD. Who knows how it really is?” After all, I had had experiences under the influence of chemicals in which I had created whole environments.&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But neither of these categories applied to this situation, and as my mind went faster I felt like a computer that has been fed an insoluble problem—the bell rings and the red light goes on and the machine stops. My mind just gave up. It burned out its circuitry, its zeal to have an explanation. I needed something to get closure at the rational level and there wasn’t anything.&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; At the same moment I felt this extremely violent pain in my chest and a tremendous wrenching feeling, and I started to cry. I cried and cried and cried, but I was neither happy nor sad. It was a kind of crying I had not experienced before. The only thing I could say about it was it felt as if I had finished something. The journey was over. I had come home.&nbsp; </i>(—from the book <i>Miracle of Love: Stories about Neem Karoli Baba</i>, compiled by Ram Dass)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In a different telling of the same story he says that the wrenching feeling in his chest felt as though an old door that had been sealed shut for many years were suddenly being torn open on its rusty hinges. Shortly after these events he stopped being an unemployed psychology professor and started being Baba Ram Dass, a spiritually-oriented being who helped many, many Westerners turn toward Dharma.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Now, <i>of course</i>, some of you readers, maybe most of you, although hopefully not all of you, will easily come up with rational explanations for the sake of not being blown away. Obviously, Dr. Alpert told the hippie guy about being under the stars thinking about his mother, and forgot. Or he just remembers the story wrong. Or maybe he just made the whole thing up, since he’s a weird New Agey-type person anyway. Right? Sure. This resistance of some (but hopefully not all) readers against being blown away is largely because of a human compulsion to <i>explain</i> everything in accordance with one’s belief system, and nowadays in the West the belief system is scientific materialism. But all this is irrelevant. One should recall that Dr. Alpert apparently was not so different; in fact it was reportedly this same typical Western need in him to explain everything being overwhelmed and incapacitated, along with other contributing factors, that flung him into the great crisis described above. His mind was blown to the point that he let go of everything he was certain of, everything that he thought he knew, and it opened his mind to a radically different, deeper mode of experience. This happened quite a lot around Maharajji, and was particularly intense for Westerners, since most of the Indians believed in psychic powers from the beginning.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And even if one grants the possibility that Maharajji was faking the psychic power somehow, the fact remains the same: Being at wit’s end was what blew the roof off of Dr. Alpert’s mental prison, or at least what forced open a door. That is really the main point here, not whether or not materialism is true.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As for my own life, I must admit that the main spiritual growth surges I have experienced have been conditioned greatly by despair. I became consciously aware of a spiritual dimension to life at the age of seventeen, at a time when I was hitting the rocks hard as a result of rebelling against a system I couldn’t take seriously, yet being unable to come up with anything sustainably better. Also, at around the age of forty I experienced a kind of awakening, which taught me to stop rebelling against my own nature, which was the result of some pretty serious despair, described in the old post “The Middle Way of Mediocrity” (10 Nov 2012). Furthermore, I was going through some unusually intense despair shortly before my ordination, which didn’t <i>cause</i> my renunciation, but certainly facilitated it. For that matter, the despair of ever finding a place in the West, with the stark possibility of spending the rest of my life as a cave-dwelling recluse in tropical Asia (sleeping in the bed I made), may turn out to be fertile ground for another crisis, and a breakthrough into something better. That would be nice. (It just now occurred to me, looking at the preceding sentences, that the present difficulty of my situation is that I am rebelling against a Western system I can’t take seriously, yet am unable to come up with anything sustainably better. Except for solitary cave-dwelling.)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In addition to the major cases mentioned above I have experienced other, less chronic crises that have resulted in insights that have stayed with me ever since. For example, a few times in my life I have been very near to possible death—as a layperson this involved driving a car at high speed and suddenly losing control of the vehicle. In these cases my mind went completely silent and crystal clear, devoid of thought, and it was as though some level of consciousness higher or clearer than the ordinary waking state took control of my body and did whatever was necessary to keep me alive. It was only after the danger was past, like when I had successfully avoided the accident, that I would return to a more ordinary state of mind and start thinking again. The spiritual benefit of these occurrences, aside from simply helping me to stay alive, was to show me that such states are even possible, and furthermore to suggest that this level of consciousness is always available, always here, watching from behind the scenes of the Matrix. Such experiences are somewhat similar to psychedelic drug trips in that they demonstrate what is possible: they offer an alternative perspective which, even after the state has subsided, allow a memory of such possibility, and thereby a permanent shift in perspective.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One doesn’t have to be an advanced meditator to have a crisis-induced shift in consciousness. For example most of the occasions mentioned just now occurred before I became a monk, and the big shift at the age of seventeen occurred before I ever sat in meditation. The following is a rather extreme instance which occurred to my father.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dad was an alcoholic of a type that is relatively rare in America but common in eastern Europe: He drank a fifth of vodka every day, and never seemed to be quite drunk, but never seemed to be quite sober either. It was as though he were fueled on ethanol. Anyway, when he was in his fifties he decided to stop drinking; and bull in a china shop that he was, he went cold turkey, sitting alone in his house. Before him on a table were two quick escapes from the ordeal, a bottle of liquor and a loaded pistol. So he sat there and went through the delirium tremens, raging and pissing his pants and tearing at his hair, with imaginary bugs crawling all over him. At one point he began hallucinating a huge eye on the wall, watching him. (I always imagine this to look like the eye on top of the pyramid on the back of a US $1 bill.) He somehow knew that the eye was totally indifferent—it didn’t care what happened, didn’t care whether he lived or died. He also somehow knew that the eye represented a deeper level of himself. He was the eye. So I suppose it was similar to the state of mind that would take me over when in a car about to crash, or while falling down a very steep hillside in the dark in a Burmese forest. And he learned something from that. Somehow it gave him strength.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As the years go by I have seen more and more examples of people for whom despair or a crisis or being at wit’s end has resulted in a life-changing epiphany or insight. One of the most famous cases I can think of is the story of Paul of Tarsus in the Christian Bible. Even before he converted to Christianity he was prone to fanaticism, in fact before his conversion he was fanatically anti-Christian. He went around having meek, humble primitive Christians arrested, flogged, imprisoned, and even occasionally put to death, which no matter how one rationalizes it is liable to plant the seeds of some incipient crisis in one’s heart. So one day as he is riding to Damascus in order to persecute some Christians there he is struck blind, knocked off his horse, and lies there on the ground hearing the voice of Christ. Those of us who are not Christians, and possibly some who are, may consider this extreme upheaval in his life to be not so much the work of God or Christ as the work of his own subconscious conscience: The man obviously had some sensitivity and desire for virtue in addition to his fanaticism, and his outward attitude and behavior finally drove his inward need for goodness to the boiling point. What some might call an act of God, others might call a hysterical meltdown. But obviously, the result of this despair or crisis was life-changing—he remained rather fanatical, yet he died to the world and became “alive in Christ,” not to mention pretty much inventing a new world religion.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Arthur Schopenhauer in his classic <i>The World as Will and Representation</i> gives two interesting though less well-known cases of despair driving a sensitive person deeply into a spiritual life. The first is Raymond Lull (1232-1315), a brilliant Franciscan philosopher, who got himself martyred by trying to convert Muslims in North Africa to Christianity. According to the story, he began his career as a sensualist courtier in attendance upon the King of Majorca. Although married, he had long been pursuing a certain beautiful woman, who finally invited him to her bedchamber. He arrived in eager anticipation of having his desires fulfilled; yet when they were alone together, the beauty opened the front of her dress to show him her breasts horribly eaten away with cancer. In the words of Schopenhauer, or rather his English translator, “From that moment, as if he had looked into hell, he was converted; leaving the court of the King of Majorca, he went into the wilderness to do penance.” He was beatified in 1837, and his feast day is June 30.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The other example is Armand Jean le Bouthilllier de Rancé (1626-1700), a very wealthy and powerful man who eventually renounced it all and became the founder of the reformed Trappist Order of Roman Catholic monasticism. I may as well let Schopenhauer describe the case himself:</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The story of the conversion of the Abbé Rancé may be given here in a few words, as one that is strikingly similar to that of Raymond Lull given in the text; moreover, it is notable on account of its result. His youth was devoted to pleasure and enjoyment; finally, he lived in a passionate relationship with a Madame de Montbazon. When he visited her one evening, he found her room empty, dark, and in disorder. He struck something with his foot; it was her head, which had been severed from the trunk because, after her sudden death, her corpse could not otherwise have been put into the leaden coffin that was standing beside it. After recovering from a terrible grief, Rancé became in 1663 the reformer of the order of the Trappists, which at that time had departed entirely from the strictness of its rules. He at once entered this order, and through him it was brought back to that terrible degree of renunciation in which it continues to exist at La Trappe even at the present time. </i>(E. F. J. Payne’s translation, Dover 1969)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">Elsewhere, Schopenhauer adds:</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>If we consider how, in both cases, the transition from the pleasure to the horror of life was the occasion, this gives us an explanation of the remarkable fact that it is the French nation, the most cheerful, merry, gay, sensual, and frivolous in Europe, in which by far the strictest of all monastic orders, namely the Trappist, arose, was re-established by Rancé after its decline, and maintains itself even to the present day in all its purity and fearful strictness, in spite of revolutions, changes in the Church, and the encroachments of infidelity.</i></div><div class="p1"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p2">It should be borne in mind that the book was published in 1844. Whether the French people are still the most merry and the French Trappists still pure and fearfully strict, I really can’t say.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I continued to encounter, in myself, in others, and in books, evidence of profound spiritual awakening being a result of an acute crisis (some of which will be mentioned in part 2); and then one day I happened to find in a used book store in Mandalay an old copy of <i>Battle for the Mind</i> by William Sargant, a book which not only acknowledges this phenomenon but attempts to explain it empirically. Dr. Sargant was a psychiatrist who treated soldiers with post traumatic stress disorder (or “battle fatigue,” as it was called then) during and after the Second World War; and he found that a kind of abreactive psychotherapy was often successful in treating his patients. This kind of treatment entailed putting the patient under renewed stress by having him relive in memory the traumatic experience. He later found that in cases when the experience was so traumatic and horrible that the patient couldn’t bring himself to relive it, having him imagine a somewhat similar stressful experience was good enough—it wasn’t so much re-experiencing the particular event but experiencing <i>any</i> desperate one that was effective.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Such results in his own work inspired him to investigate the work of others along similar lines; and he found that this tendency of the human mind to respond radically to being at wit’s end has been utilized since the stone age, and developed and exploited more and more in modern times, for various purposes.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The principle itself, in a general sense, applies not only to human beings, but to any kind of relatively intelligent animal. It could be called instinctive. Pavlov studied it in his dogs, for instance. The way it works is that we (including dogs, etc.) are governed by habit; and so long as a habitual way of going about life works—which is to say, so long as it keeps us alive and functioning, more or less, regardless of how happy it allows us to be—for so long we resist changing it. Even though we may be chronically unhappy, we hold to our ways. We stubbornly cling to beliefs and behaviors that have gotten us this far. So it may actually be easy to teach an old dog new tricks, but as Pavlov could attest, to <i>un</i>teach it its <i>old</i> tricks could be extremely difficult. However, if we find ourselves in a situation in which the old habitual beliefs and behaviors just don’t work, in which they cannot cope anymore and our perceptual world starts to break down, then a crisis is reached in which we become much more willing to let go of the old and much more open to accepting something new. Pavlov found that after essentially torturing his dogs, physically or psychologically, stubbornly entrenched behaviors could be reprogramed relatively easily; and clever leaders and manipulators around the world have found that pretty much the same thing can be accomplished with people.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This principle has been used since prehistoric times in initiations, such as tribal manhood rituals for establishing youths as new men of the tribe. They may be required to go into a wilderness and undergo some harrowing ordeal, possibly having the living daylights scared out of them, as a method of preparing them for indoctrination by elder men (who of course have been through the ordeal themselves), transforming them into “braves” who will do whatever is required of them for the good of the tribe, and who will not flinch at pain or even at death. Vision quests and other religious rituals also may follow this principle; and of course in “primitive” societies religion and everyday life are not necessarily differentiated, so indoctrination into official manhood and so on may themselves be considered religious. Difficult or otherwise awe-inspiring initiation rituals to this day, including military basic training, are continuations of this, and no doubt have a similar effect.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In modern times, as the principle became better understood, or at least its effects became better known, the method of breaking a person down into a quivering mess, and then “reconstructing” that person in accordance with the ideas of the people organizing the ordeal, has become used for various purposes, both positive and negative. In addition to some initiations and abreactive psychotherapy, the principle is also the foundation of “brainwashing” and extreme interrogation methods. In the Stalinist Soviet Union, for example, political prisoners were subjected to psychological torture in a way that would not only compel them to confess to trying to overthrow the government, but would cause them to actually, sincerely <i>believe</i> they were guilty of trying to overthrow the government. Those who have read Orwell’s <i>Nineteen Eighty-Four</i> may recall that the Ministry of Love used similar methods on Winston Smith and many others.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But interesting as this principle is in general, my primary interest is with regard to the mainly positive spiritual aspect of it. Religious conversions are not always positive, however.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Long ago I had a monastic friend who had grown cynical and had dropped out of the monkhood; and on at least one occasion he pointed out to me the resemblance between intensive Vipassana retreats and what went on at communist Chinese thought reform camps. Both sorts of inmates enjoy minimal sleep, few meals, are forbidden to talk with anyone except the indoctrinator, and generally live so austerely and unnaturally that it can be quite stressful. Some people just can’t stand it and break down. One of the main differences, of course, is that expanded consciousness and greater freedom of mind are encouraged at a good meditation retreat, and ruthlessly outlawed at the indoctrination camp. But the underlying principle may be seen to be the same—the artificial nurturing of a crisis, if not a full-blown psychological breakdown, leading to a breakthrough to a different way of experiencing the world.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>(end of part 1)</i></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5wtsPGh9xd8/VuSNoi6V1LI/AAAAAAAABqI/eUGTmynkoNkqqNgMLg1A97SLaW6JVhaPg/s1600/muppet.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5wtsPGh9xd8/VuSNoi6V1LI/AAAAAAAABqI/eUGTmynkoNkqqNgMLg1A97SLaW6JVhaPg/s400/muppet.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-72390954133923329572016-03-05T12:50:00.000-08:002016-03-28T15:23:08.886-07:00A Little More on the Equality of Women<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The highest good is like water.</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive.</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It flows in places men reject and so is like the Tao. &nbsp;</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; </i>(—from the Tao Te Ching, chapter 8)</div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; More than a zillion books, articles, movies, documentaries, podcasts, etc. have already been published addressing feminism, and various aspects of feminism, with possibly thousands more in the works as I write this, as the subject is of course very much in fashion. So this relatively brief essay, coming from someone who hasn’t read any of the books (except maybe for a few novels) and damn few of the articles—largely because I avoid fashions like the plague—may appear to be so simplistic or unrealistic as to be derisory. But part of the difficulty in social issues is maintaining a detached perspective; and as someone who has opted out of social worldliness I do see what is going on in this world from a significantly different angle, less informed in some ways, certainly not fashionable, but seeing basic assumptions that are going unquestioned, with herd instinct limiting the options for almost everyone. So I figure, what the hell.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In recent decades there has been a remarkable trend in action movies. The trend is to portray women as beautiful nuclear-powered badasses, often wearing tight black leather, who are able to kick the collective buttocks of entire rooms full of tough male fighters, monsters, and/or predatory space aliens. They often show their femininity only through their female face, body, and voice, and sometimes by kicking ass on their enemies without messing up their hair or makeup. Following is a very incomplete list of relatively well known examples.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Emma Peel of the old TV show “The Avengers.” She was an early forerunner of the tight-leather-pants-wearing badass beauty, and was reincarnated in a bad movie remake that I didn’t see.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Some of the more violently lethal James Bond villainesses.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Ellen Ripley in the <i>Alien</i> movies (especially the sequels).</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Trinity in the <i>Matrix</i> movies.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Æon Flux, in the movie by the same name.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~“The Bride” who slaughters entire crowds of armed gangsters with a sword in the <i>Kill Bill </i>movies.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Violet Song Jat Shariff who does likewise in the movie <i>Ultraviolet.</i></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Natasha Romanova, alias the Black Widow, in various Marvel comic book movies.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Queen Artemisia in <i>300: Rise of an Empire</i>, who bears practically no resemblance whatsoever with the historical Queen Artemisia.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~Sergeant Rita Vrataski, alias the Angel of Verdun, alias “Full Metal Bitch,” in <i>Edge of Tomorrow.</i></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; </i>~Imperator Furiosa, with a crew cut, dirt, and one arm, but still beautiful, in the latest <i>Mad Max</i> movie.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; ~And last but certainly not least, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura in the new <i>Star Trek </i>movies, who deserves special mention. The new <i>Star Trek</i> movies generally portray their main characters as very similar to the originals on the old TV show—except Uhura, who differs radically. From being just a competent, intelligent, and courageous communications officer, she became yet another high-stepping alien-stomping badass beauty, who furthermore apparently gets her freak on with Mr. Spock. There presumably was a perceived need for an ultra-strong beautiful female badass in the “updated” version of <i>Star Trek</i>, and a communications officer was the best they could come up with under the circumstances.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, I’m not exactly trying to badmouth this remarkable trend, as I have really liked some of these movies; in fact <i>The Matrix</i>, with its ass-kicking, tight-leather-wearing Trinity, is one of my absolute favorite movies of all time, although certainly not just because of her. However, with all due respect, I would like to venture a question: Has there ever <i>really</i> been a woman like any of the monster slayers listed above? There have been quite a few genuinely Rambo-like men in history who accomplished some major ass-kicking and sword-hacking against numerous enemies, face to face, like Spartacus, King Richard the Lionheart, and the samurai master Miyamoto Musashi; but I can’t think of a single woman who could, and did, fatally mess up numerous armed male enemies (let alone zombies or space aliens) in hand to hand combat. They may have existed, but I don’t know who they are, or were. The historical Queen Artemisia wasn’t one of them.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Nevertheless, many take female characters of this sort very seriously, seemingly at face value as valid representations of women. With regard to the alien-slaying Ellen Ripley of the <i>Alien</i> movies, film critic John Scalzi considered her to be quite realistic, <i>even in the sequels</i>, and actually wrote of her, “<b>Ripley isn’t a fantasy version of a woman.</b>” (With his emphatic bold type.) This is apparently because aside from evolving into an ultra-lethal badass in the sequels, she has a nuanced personality—an extraordinarily tough one, but nuanced nonetheless. For "The Mary Sue,"&nbsp;a blog/website which apparently deals with feminism in pop culture<i>,</i> another movie critic, Teresa Jusino, wrote an article on nuanced female characters which bears the subtitle “Why we need more Rita Vrataskis.” (Ms. Vrataski, to clarify here, is one of the badass beauties listed above, who in the movie <i>Edge of Tomorrow</i> almost single-handedly defeated an invading alien horde in a certain Battle of Verdun, becoming a world hero, and who is much braver and psychologically stronger than her male counterpart, played by Tom Cruise.) Jusino writes, <span class="s1">“</span><span class="s2">To me, Rita Vrataski is exactly the kind of Nuanced Female Character we should encourage in film.</span><span class="s1">”</span> A big reason why she perceives the need for more female characters like this is because she wants more women in films who are “not caricatures.” As though beautiful young women fearlessly kicking alien ass all over a battlefield are not caricatures. (There are even some feministic movie critics who consider ass-kickers like Rita and Trinity to be <i>not badass enough</i>.)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Perhaps a more important question than “Has a woman like this ever really existed on this planet?” would be “Why is there such a fashionable demand for female movie characters like this nowadays?” Past societies also have had mythological women who were physically tougher and stronger than almost any man, although their supermasculine toughness was usually tied up somehow with “purity”—once they would lose their virginity, rather like Samson losing his hair, they would become ordinary women—and the modern beautiful dragon slayer with perfect fingernails tends not to give a damn about virginity. The new Uhura mating with Spock comes to mind as an obvious example.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The answer to this big question seems plainly obvious actually: As Teresa Jusino freely admits, it is for “those who want gender parity in pop culture.” Obviously, it is a political-correctness-conditioned attempt to portray women as equal to men. Plus of course it’s just kind of mind-blowing and cool to watch beautiful young women beating the hell out of everyone, often in intricate, graceful movements choreographed like dancing.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKVTjOm1460/VteBsQ1tJPI/AAAAAAAABo8/GLa8VtMFSjU/s1600/rita%2Bvrataski%2521.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKVTjOm1460/VteBsQ1tJPI/AAAAAAAABo8/GLa8VtMFSjU/s1600/rita%2Bvrataski%2521.gif" /></a></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There is another remarkable trend lately, more subtle than action movies; and this one is in so-called “real life.” The trend is for men in Western society to be softer, more timid, in some ways more “feminine,” with old-fashioned masculinity or machismo becoming more and more frowned upon as politically incorrect. In America this fashion is most conspicuous in the New Age subculture; once I had a rather feministic New Age American woman actually complaining to me that men are no longer allowed to be men. The movie <i>Fight Club</i> portrays this emasculation of the modern male in a (partly) symbolic form. And just recently a European woman told me that the softening and weakening of men is even more prevalent in Western Europe, possibly facilitated by the European pride of being “civilized” as well as the apparent phenomenon that Europe is less divided into subcultures than America. But although this trend is very different from what is happening in the fantasy world of action movies, the purpose of it appears to be essentially the same: the modern drive toward the equality of women and men.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; These two cultural trends, it seems to me, are based upon a confused idea that in order to be equal, men and women should be <i>the same</i>, or much more the same than was previously the case. Thus women should be more masculine and/or men should be more feminine, supposedly. But I consider neither to be necessary, natural, or even a good idea, even though it might turn out to be sustainable for all I know. Although at a very advanced philosophical level I can accept that the duality of masculine/feminine is to be transcended, at the very unenlightened level of mainstream worldly society I don’t think that is such a good idea either. That women and men are to be <i>equal</i> I agree with 100%; the question is <i>how</i> they are to be equal, and sameness is definitely not the only kind of equality.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It makes simple, perfect sense that there should be as little gender discrimination as possible, positive or negative, with regard to laws of the land and human rights. With regard to whether something is illegal or not, or whether this person or that person gets hired for a job, maleness and femaleness ideally would not be an issue. This does not mean that there should be anything resembling affirmative action; for example it would be absurd to require NFL football teams to recruit equal numbers of female and male players. Whoever can do the job the best is the one who should be hired; and if that means heavy physical labor is a predominantly masculine line of work, well, Mother Nature and Darwinian sexual selection are to blame for that. But even if more miners, mechanics, and soldiers are male, that does not necessarily mean that females are not equal. This should not be a difficult concept to comprehend.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Also, even though males and females are not <i>the same</i>, still, societal roles should not require aggressive, tough women to follow traditionally feminine pursuits, and gentle, timid men to pursue traditionally masculine ones. On the other hand, people should be allowed to think for themselves with regard to how to live their lives, and not be coerced by premodern traditions OR postmodern trends in political correctness. But unfortunately most people don’t think for themselves all that much. Fashion trends, political correctness, and propaganda drive the herd this way or that way. It is unfortunate maybe, but that’s just the way it is.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One issue that deserves consideration is that society in general, including most feminists, are accepting fundamentally masculine assumptions by default, with the aforementioned cinematic beautiful superbitches being a case in point. Gender equality is viewed through a predominantly masculine lens, even by women. An additional case in point is the word <i>empowerment</i>, which is a kind of rallying cry for so many females in America. But the very word “empowerment” is based upon the word “power,” which represents much more a masculine ideal, with masculine connotations, than a feminine one. This is not to say that women do not have power, or that they should not have it, but it does suggest that femininity is seen through a traditional masculine lens even by women themselves, with genuinely feminine virtues being downplayed in order to compete with men at their own game.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But there is a severe handicap in trying to compete with men on a predominantly masculine playing field: Much in the same way that traditional Eastern countries cannot realistically hope to outcompete the West in the field of scientifically honed capitalist democracy (with China’s new juggernaut status already showing indications of extreme stress), since it is an alien intrusion into these Eastern countries and something that did not evolve there naturally, even so, most women cannot realistically hope to be equal to men while adopting a masculine point of view and going with axioms invented by men. The very fact that women are waiting for men to allow their “empowerment” indicates that they really are not equal in that sense; if they were really equal in that particular sense they could simply take it for themselves without waiting decades for men to comply. The fundamental outlook is biased in favor of men, and women, including feminists, are accepting much of that outlook without examination, without seriously questioning it.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This is not to say, I hasten to emphasize, that women are not equal to men. I consider them <i>already</i> equal in the most essential ways, without necessarily having to wait for anything or to demand anything. But their equality simply is not masculine, with the possible exception of a small minority of women who are naturally, if you will pardon the expression, “butch.” Women, generally speaking, have their own set of virtues which are equal to those of men, even though society may undervalue these virtues because it has been based on a predominantly masculine world view since ancient times, possibly since prehistoric times.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One nuclear-powered beautiful ass-kicker from the action movies who is not on the list above, but who is certainly worthy of mention at this point, is little Babydoll in the movie <i>Sucker Punch. </i>(The following discussion may contain spoilers for those who haven’t seen the movie. Consider yourself warned.) In a way she is the most realistic of them all—while at the very same time she as a nuclear superbitch is most obviously a caricature fantasy woman. At the beginning of the movie she is a girl brutally abused by a psychopathic stepfather who kills her younger sister (possibly her mother also), accuses her of the crime, and has her committed to a mental hospital, where she is to undergo a lobotomy to keep her silent. Under these unbearably harsh conditions she retreats into a fantasy world, in which she imagines herself to be a white slave in a brothel, with fellow inmates being her colleagues in the male entertainment industry. From this realm she occasionally enters a deeper one in which she and her young cohorts become stereotypical beautiful badasses taking down giants, zombies, and monsters in Ramboesque melee fighting—dodging bullets and dragon flames, wielding swords with total lethality, and generally kicking superhuman ass all over the place. So at one level she uses her feminine beauty and sexuality, plus courage, as a means of controlling and defeating brutal men, and at the next she goes straight into the realm of masculine ass-kickery; yet both of these scenarios are the more or less delusional coping mechanisms of a very traumatized, imprisoned, seemingly helpless and doomed young woman. In the reality of the mental hospital she scores her real victory, and shows her real heroism and “empowerment,” which is found in feminine compassion and self-sacrifice. And at the heartbreaking climax of the movie Babydoll is genuinely happy, for the very first time. I suppose that is the sucker punch indicated in the title: Everyone is conditioned to assume that she’s going to blast her way out like a man, or at least exploit her sexuality with men as a way out, and then she manifests exquisite feminine virtue to achieve the “perfect victory.” Which, to those who are conditioned to see the world in a masculine way, may be seen as a cheat. This no doubt is a major reason why critics disliked the movie: It’s not a great movie, but it’s not a bad one either; what it is, is a <i>politically incorrect</i> movie which shows a real but despised way in which women are just as great as men are. But in a different way from men.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>Sucker Punch</i> was condemned as misogynistic by some politically correct film critics. They accused the movie of not “empowering” women. Some of them just didn’t understand the movie. But others could not appreciate that meekness, compassion, and self-sacrifice themselves are a kind of “power.” This seems to be a fundamental problem: From a masculine point of view which women have adopted, <i>being genuinely, naturally feminine just isn’t equal!</i> And this despite the wisest people in history and the most advanced spiritual traditions endorsing meekness, gentleness, compassion, patience, “subservience,” and self-sacrifice as supreme virtues. But society is not particularly wise. Again, there is confusion here between “equal” and “the same”; it is an unnecessary limitation of perspective, a narrowness of view, and an inherently sexist, even misogynistic one besides, indulged in even by feminists themselves. So long as an unenlightened masculine ethic is employed to interpret feminine empowerment, which is exactly what is happening in the mainstream of Western feminism, then women are essentially fucked.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Since I’ve been carrying on about how women do not need to be like men in order to be equal, I would like to give one example of a person I consider to be very feminine, yet obviously “empowered” and the equal of any man: the musician Kate Bush.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; She had written music since she was around twelve years old, and was “discovered” at fifteen by David Gilmour of Pink Floyd. Her first hit single, “Wuthering Heights,” was written when she was around seventeen. She was this thin little soprano-singing faerie girl who sang with such intensity that some were taken aback by it. At first the businessmen wanting to make money from producing her music tried to call the shots, but before long they bowed their heads to her genius, or Muse, because she simply knew better than they did how to present her music. Eventually she not only wrote her own songs but created and choreographed the videos and even produced the albums. Somewhat like William Blake, she was driven to express her inspiration as purely and completely as she was able, even to the point of seeming so intensely self-indulgent as to be embarrassing to some, or even a little crazy. But she had to express herself fully, making herself completely vulnerable in the process. The fact that she is also very pretty is almost totally irrelevant. At the peak of success she stopped performing publicly for many years so that her son could have a normal childhood. On a BBC documentary about Bush, fellow musician Natasha Khan, alias Bat for Lashes, says this:</div><blockquote class="tr_bq">I really thank Kate, because these touchstones like “This Woman’s Work,” that kind of song, is um, it’s celebrating everything that’s so wonderful about being a woman, and being nurturing and intuitive and emotional and gentle and sensual, and just, like, really intimate…. People don’t put their hearts on the line in that vulnerable way very much, and it’s really, as an artist myself it’s helped me to not be frightened to show…as much of my vulnerability as a woman that I can, and in that, be powerful.&nbsp;</blockquote><div class="p4">Which incidentally brings up the idea of what it is like to be a woman, which is interesting to me, although of course being male I can’t really say what it’s like.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, I consider Kate to be one of an infinite number of possible examples of truly <i>feminine</i> empowerment: a person who is physically small with a high-pitched voice and probably incapable of beating anyone up, yet is intuitively, creatively, vulnerably, with inspiration, driven to bare her heart, so to speak. The effects of her Muse cause some to feel uncomfortable, or even disdainful, but leave others in awe. With regard to the tough, nuanced ass-kickers in tight leather pants, at least they can be intuitive. (I may as well add here that most of Kate Bush’s music isn’t my style, but still I respect what she has done with her life.)&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qMUhGY_uHOM/VteB_Q_VTMI/AAAAAAAABpA/glsX3ikxDhY/s1600/kate%2Bbush%2Bsiyl%2B5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="309" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qMUhGY_uHOM/VteB_Q_VTMI/AAAAAAAABpA/glsX3ikxDhY/s400/kate%2Bbush%2Bsiyl%2B5.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As part of my minimal studies for this essay I actually consulted a female, especially with regard to her feelings about Natasha Khan’s statement about femininity above; and she referred me to a <a href="https://soundcloud.com/intelligence2/what-next-for-feminism" target="_blank"><b>podcast</b></a> of a recent symposium on feminism, especially as it fares in the UK, to give me some idea as to where feminism is at nowadays; and I listened to it with interest. There was a high-profile, “high-powered” American feminist participating who seemed to endorse, even to take for granted, the idea that women need to be taught “how to act like men.” Ack! But a little later on in the podcast a British Darwinian evolutionary biologist, a female one, began pointing out that biologically there really are significant differences between men and women, not only physical but psychological as well (for example, men have evolved to be more competitive), and that modern feminism has been “derailed” by confounding equality with <i>sameness</i>. She also pointed out that in the most liberal societies, in which women have the most choice with regard to how they live their lives, their choices differ even more widely from those of men than in less liberal societies. She pointed out that if allowed a total freedom to choose, women not only choose different priorities in life, but even when they share priorities with men, they go about realizing them differently. Also, women are much more likely to freely choose to raise children instead of pursuing a professional career. This speaker, asserting that it is not sex differences but sexism which should be challenged, was unquestionably the most controversial and challenging speaker at the conference, with the most (polite) disagreement aimed at her from the other participants; the high-powered American could actually be heard whispering “I don’t believe it” on one occasion, and just plain vocalized it on another. But the evolutionary biologist had empirical science backing her up rather than political correctness and ideological wishful thinking. And of course I considered her statements to be most in accordance with my own understanding of the situation. Not only do I have a background in biology, but I have distanced myself from society sufficiently that it is easy to see my species as a type of hominid primates. We are animals laden with animal instincts, with significant differences between the genders, speaking generally with regard to averages, and no amount of political correctness is going to change that. Once I read in a book on the evolution of sex (<i>The Red Queen</i>, by Matt Ridley) that a man from New York, psychologically, has <i>less</i> in common with a woman from New York than he has with a man from the highlands of New Guinea. Almost needless to say, the author received death threats for having published his ideas.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A point that should be seriously considered by all feminists is, Exactly what sort of equality do women want? The right to imitate men, or to be as bad as men? So much feminism of the past has been geared toward precisely this. Or do they want the right to follow as their own heart leads them? If women want to be equal, then let them be equal! Deep down they’re <i>already</i> equal, even if most men and most governments don’t recognize this essential fact. On the other hand, if they can’t be equal unless men voluntarily let them, then they’re simply not equal and never will be, at least not in that respect.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There is absolutely nothing wrong with men and women being different, especially considering that equality and sameness are not synonymous. It is possible to be very different, yet still equal. Life itself is possible due to the harmonious balance of contrary forces: female and male, order and chaos, security and freedom, building up and tearing down, Milton’s God and Blake’s Devil, Apollo and Dionysus, yin and yang. To give one simplistic example, and speaking very generally of course, women temper men’s instinctive aggression, and men temper women’s instinctive insecurity. That may sound very politically incorrect and socially unacceptable, but it is a fairly obvious biological trend in the human species, and kind of a beautiful one actually.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I reiterate that ideally everyone would have equal protection under the law and under the political constitution, with equal rights in such a form that gender is irrelevant, or as irrelevant as possible. Everyone ought to have the right to decide for themselves how they ought to live a fulfilling life, within reason; which of course means women can be aggressive and men can be timid. Why not? But they should determine themselves and not be led, sheeplike, by premodern traditions or postmodern gender-issue fashions. A tough woman should not be prevented from being like a man if she is able and willing, yet she shouldn’t be urged to it either. It should be entirely up to her.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; To conclude this conclusion I would like to point out that to the extent that one makes a social issue out of gender, to that extent it thereby becomes artificial and no longer “authentic.” A big reason why deer, rabbits, birds, and babies are authentic and not hypocritical is because they don’t cultivate social issues. Consequently it is best to keep gender issues relegated to such artificialities as laws, constitutions, and business policies; and with regard to an individual’s personal life, it would seem that the ideal is just to be true to one’s own innate nature, not to artificial traditions, old or new. Just be yourself and you’re automatically authentic, in addition to being essentially equal.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p0Bb2PWXPBg/VteCTAoMR6I/AAAAAAAABpI/BEiqQ1yh3SY/s1600/Trinity%2B2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p0Bb2PWXPBg/VteCTAoMR6I/AAAAAAAABpI/BEiqQ1yh3SY/s1600/Trinity%2B2.gif" /></a></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p2"><b>Brief Webliography</b></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p5"><span class="s3">Scalzi, John: </span><span class="s4">“Ellen Ripley Is Clearly the Best Female Character in Scifi Film, and That’s a Problem”</span></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4"><a href="http://www.amc.com/talk/2011/09/ellen-ripley-is">http://www.amc.com/talk/2011/09/ellen-ripley-is</a>&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4">Jusino, Teresa: “<i>Edge of Tomorrow</i>’s Angel of Verdun: Nuanced Female Characters (Why we need more Rita Vrataskis.)”</span></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4"><a href="http://www.themarysue.com/edge-of-tomorrows-angel-of-verdun-nuanced-female-characters/">http://www.themarysue.com/edge-of-tomorrows-angel-of-verdun-nuanced-female-characters/</a></span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4">An interesting hour-long BBC documentary on the life of Kate Bush:</span></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4sLwt8mhZs">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4sLwt8mhZs</a></span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4">Bush, Kate: “Watching You Without Me,” a song from side 2 of <i>Hounds of Love</i>, about a woman who drowns in a river, after which her spirit travels home and tries in vain to communicate with her mate (the weird vocal effects symbolize her failed attempts at communication)</span></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPZUo_hps9w">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPZUo_hps9w</a>&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4">The podcast: “What Next for Feminism?” (The evolutionary biologist stating that the more free women are the more they differ from men is towards the end)</span></div><div class="p5"><span class="s4"><a href="https://soundcloud.com/intelligence2/what-next-for-feminism">https://soundcloud.com/intelligence2/what-next-for-feminism</a></span></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div><br /><div class="p6"><span class="s4"></span><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-9339586798532344722016-02-27T14:48:00.000-08:002016-02-27T14:48:39.275-08:00The Next Moment/Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; </b><i>This post may be so disorientingly philosophical and “out there” as to be unreadable to most readers. Just saying.</i></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Recently I was attending an Asian festival celebration in California (I attend lots more of them in California than I ever did in Asia); and amidst the ceremonies and commotion and food I suddenly had this idea for a philosophical essay. In fact after that I was eager to leave the celebration quickly so I could write it down. It may be of little interest to dedicated followers of Scientism, and may not be of actual use to anybody else, including me; but it challenges established ideas, so I like it. My calling in life is to challenge ideas, and thereby to introduce chaos into order…until chaos starts gaining the upper hand, whereupon I will switch sides.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In previous posts, especially in “What Is Belief” (12 Sep 2015 ), I have mentioned that the great Scottish philosopher David Hume pounded away at the interesting idea, possibly even the empirical fact, that <i>causality</i> cannot be experienced directly, but must be inferred, and that therefore its very existence is merely an educated guess, and consequently ultimately uncertain. According to Hume, we do not even experience the inward causal force of volitional mental states directly, but simply experience an intention and then experience the apparent fruit of that intention, without actually experiencing as such any causative force in addition to these two, which links them. We consistently observe a temporal sequence, A followed by B, so we assume the existence of a causative force, and assume that A <i>causes</i> B. Thus causality is a very convenient axiom that we adopt for the purpose of interpreting phenomena in this world, and it generally remains unquestioned and unexamined, even by scientists; but it may be no more than a psychological gimmick, based upon a deeper psychological quirk, for interpreting Reality, with events (assuming that those exist) really being connected together by something else.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Mainly what I am trying to point out here, for the sake of “softening up” the reader for what comes after, is that causality may be an established fact for almost all of the human race, but that it is ultimately uncertain nevertheless. There is in all likelihood no way of absolutely proving its existence. For instance, all the phenomena we see around us could be a kind of projection, with no more motive force in anything than there is in events projected on a screen: it sure looks like the car is crashing through a plate glass window, but on a movie screen the “car” has no actual momentum at all. This world could all be a kind of vivid dream, or projected illusion. Some philosophers of the past have realized this possibility, and have provided God as the one who supplies all the actual power, although there are other theoretical possibilities.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In a different previous post (“Abhidhamma Studies II: Arising and Passing Away,” posted 8 Feb 2014) I pointed out that, although orthodox Theravada Buddhism accepts causality as a primary explanation for phenomenal processes, the orthodox Theravadin Abhidhamma philosophy appears to leave no possibility of causation over time. Abhidhamma scholars assert that all phenomena are arising and passing away, blinking in and out of existence a trillion or so times every second, with a cause A appearing, then totally disappearing, somehow followed by effect B—despite the fact that B is arising after A had entirely ceased to exist. Consequently, since Abhidhamma also asserts that the past is nonexistent, the result arises from a nonexistent cause, which is the same as to say that it arises from no cause whatever. Everything ceasing to exist at the end of each moment, before the next version of everything appears to assume the form of the next moment, produces a clean break with any conceivable causal force over time. To this day I am unsure how a devout Abhidhammist would meet this challenge.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This orthodox derailing of causation in Buddhist philosophy doesn’t bother me much, partly because I have a perverse love of paradox, and partly because my own best guess as to why our universe seems to exist also leaves no room for genuine causation. The two main articles on this blog which deal with my own favorite metaphysical Theory of Everything are “The Simile of the Block of Marble” and “Jumping the Shark: A Return to the Uncarved Block” (5 Jan 2013 and 15 March 2014); so anyone interested can look them up and read them, as I won’t explain the uncarved block of marble again here. Here I will just observe that, according to the theory, everything that possibly can exist, does exist, essentially simultaneously, and everything is superimposed upon everything else in a dimensionless, timeless point. Consequently, it is what the Buddhists call individual ignorance (<i>avijjā</i>) that filters out everything except what it is ready to see, with one moment and the next being connected by perceived <i>similarity</i>. There is no real connection between one moment and the next, as is implied by Abhidhamma also; rather, the peculiar form of our perceiving mind chooses a series of similar yet differing events which we call “life” or “the real world.” The lottery of possible quirks provides a direction and an underlying “theme.” So similarity and a kind of default quirk we have received produce the appearance of causality. According to the theory.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Mere similarity may seem totally inadequate as a link between one mental state, say, and the next. But the following scenario may help to show that there is possibly something to it.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It is a fairly common occurrence in science fiction stories, and it may become plausible in the “real world” within a few decades, for a human personality to be downloaded into a computer. This may be accomplished by programming a virtual, digital human brain, or by other methods. A recent example of this in science fiction is in the movie <i>Transcendence</i>, and in the novel <i>Eon</i> the author Greg Bear describes a human society in which <i>most</i> of the inhabitants are downloaded into computers, with no organic body or brain at all. So the philosophical question here is (and this is what occurred to me at the festival): What is the relationship between the original mind and the mind after it is downloaded? Is it the same mind, the same personality, the same person?</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I think we can rule out pretty easily the possibility that the downloaded personality is the same as the one before it, by considering the possibility that the downloading process does not necessitate the death of the original organic human. As far as the person is concerned, her or his mental patterns may be in the computer now, but she or he continues to identify, with no perceived lapse of any sort, with the original analog version. The downloaded personality may “remember” events which occurred to the original, and may feel the same at first—although of course the radical difference in living situation would almost immediately facilitate a drift away from the biological version: the new mind may have many, very powerful sense organs which radically alter the entity’s quality of experiencing the world, or on the other hand the person may lose all interest in the “real world” in favor of a much more interesting virtual reality.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One aspect of this scenario which interests me is that fact that people will be downloading themselves into computers (assuming that this ever becomes possible) largely for the sake of some semblance of immortality; yet the original person still dies, and is replaced by a different mind which only resembles it, or at least resembles it at first. Is this really immortality then, or even some realistic consolation for dying? Is it accurate to say that someone doesn’t die because there is still someone very much like them? I suppose many people feel this way about their children, but even an identical twin surviving the other twin’s death seems obviously very different from the other surviving.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Many people would go for it though, considering the digitization process to be really a prolongation of themselves. The new virtual person may feel like the original, and of course have the same long term memories, regardless of the fact that it is not identical with its forerunner, but only <i>similar</i>. It would be considered good enough to count as a virtual continuation of the individual’s personality. The new virtual identity could be “born” long after the original person died, after stored files are activated, and far away from any place where the original person ever lived.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The point that all of this is meandering to is that, setting aside the strange idea that every moment is related to its predecessor and successor only by similarity (plus psychological quirks), the process of rebirth, alleged to function by such groups as Buddhists and Hindus, may also be no more than the similarity of two or more personalities. Much as with a downloaded psychological simulacrum, similarity and overlap of characteristics may be sufficient to warrant a feeling of identity between two entities. If there is to be found in another enough similarity with “me,” there may be some empirical validity to saying that the other really <i>is</i> “me,” or <i>sort of</i> me or a <i>virtual</i> me. There may be a subjective feeling of identity. Thus rebirth could be said to exist, and have a certain validity, without any empirically determined connecting principle other than similarity. A certain feeling of “me” may be sufficient to assert a quasi continuation of a being’s mentality.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This same principle of similarity could also help to explain feelings of deep empathy or compassion: To the extent that we are subjectively similar, to that same extent we are the same being. We feel the other’s unhappiness because, in a deeply fundamental sense, we <i>are </i>the other.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The similarity interpretation of rebirth (Buddhists don’t like the term “reincarnation” for some reason) would not rule out the possibilities of two “me’s” at the same time, however. Also it would not be the only means of explaining the possibility, at least, of rebirth. For example, there may be connections between one thing and another that are simply beyond the understanding of mere human apes, or beyond the limited flexibility of their imagination, regardless of how well educated and scientific they and their computers are. If a three-dimensional being were to insert the tines of a fork into a two-dimensional Flatland, the 2D inhabitants would sense four entirely unconnected, yet similar, metallic shapes. The shapes would be obviously separate from such a limited point of view, although clearly part of the same object from a less limited one. And we humans may be oblivious to other dimensions.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, this still would not explain how <i>karma</i> fits into the equation, how it could function as a connecting principle between lives. We may as well just leave it that way for now.&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yaY4h4p3uRY/VtDZGsYsHfI/AAAAAAAABoM/lbhCdud2RrY/s1600/Artificial%2BIntelligence1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yaY4h4p3uRY/VtDZGsYsHfI/AAAAAAAABoM/lbhCdud2RrY/s400/Artificial%2BIntelligence1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-39091193394750623012016-02-20T00:01:00.000-08:002016-02-20T00:01:13.234-08:00The Karma Monster<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “No psychic value can disappear without being replaced by another of equivalent intensity.” —</i>Carl Jung</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This post, or document (“document” sounds more dignified), is somewhat of a hybrid of two previous articles: “Hysteria and the Holy Life” (on how religious restraint of natural urges can result in pathological symptoms), posted 15 June 2013, and “The Autopilot” (on how karma as force of habit semiconsciously drives us through life), posted 11 April 2015. It echoes other articles also, and is another attempt at examining a point that I have danced/lurched around several times over the course of this blog. I intend to write on how the force of karma considers itself to be “me,” in a sense, and rebels against attempted deep improvements of the system, seeing them as a threat to its own identity and existence.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The principle in question applies not only to effects of the so-called Holy Life, but to life in general. Here is a fairly common example: Two people fall in love. They are very happy, exultant even, feeling like they have never felt before in their lives. Then, one of them starts to panic, thinking that the situation is just too good to be true, and abruptly bails out or else begins picking fights and pushing the other person away, leaving the other person totally bewildered, and possibly heartbroken besides. There may be many reasons for explaining this, although the karma monster hypothesis is this: Being so expanded and so happy is too different from one’s habitual mode of existence, putting it in violent conflict with one’s own karma—which, as I have tried to explain before, can be explained in terms of the habitual momentum of one’s mental energy. One’s habitual mode of being sees such radical change as a threat, and fights against it, even though it may be a state of rapture that it is rejecting.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; (Before moving on I should point out that, going with a more or less Buddhist interpretation of karma, <i>both</i> people are creating the situation; so although the decision of the one rebelling against the romance may seem unilateral, actually deep volitional actions of the other’s karma, though perhaps invisible, are also causing the relationship to end. Which brings up the paradox, or miracle, of everyone’s karma dovetailing and resonating, regardless of how one-sided events may seem on the surface.)</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This kind of karmic reaction can happen when two people at different levels of spiritual development interact closely. Ram Dass, in one of his early books, mentioned something along these lines. He said that when he was doing intensive spiritual practice in India he developed certain <i>siddhis</i>, or “powers,” which could affect the attitudes of other people; so that when he returned to America he found that people with whom he interacted would make remarkable spiritual progress…but that it wouldn’t last, since it was something imposed upon them artificially, so to speak. They would revert back to the original, less happy state. It just wasn’t their karma to be that advanced just yet.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Similar things can happen with intensive meditation practice, or intensive religion in general. In extreme cases the individual in question may dramatically catapult himself or herself right out of the situation, often inventing incredible excuses for their behavior, or just being too irrational even to bother with excuses. In less extreme cases the resistance of one’s karma may manifest in the form of subtle sabotage. In even less extreme cases it may not be noticed at all, although it is still there.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A big reason why I’ve been thinking on this subject lately is because during the month-long intensive meditation retreat I participated in recently I was noting my own mind rebelling against the practice in various ways. Following are some odd symptoms I experienced:</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>Irritability, etc.</b> While doing intensive practice I found myself at times being unusually irritable. The irritation was usually not directed toward my fellow yogis, or toward anyone actually present (with a few exceptions, like the gardener using a very loud leaf blower for hours outside the meditation hall—one or twice I even momentarily fantasized about punching him); instead I would remember people I had interacted with years previously and feel resentment and indignation, finding fault aplenty…then note it, being surprised at such violent feelings over people I hadn’t seen in years. Frustration and sadness over a long-defunct relationship also arose. Also criticism of the meditation method, and of just about anything else criticizable.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Compulsive thinking. </b>There were a few times in particular during the retreat when my thinking mind vehemently insisted upon wandering, running amuck even, with efforts to bring it back to the “primary object” being almost completely futile. At such times the only strategy that proved effective was a kind of <i>cittānupassanā</i> or contemplation of the mind itself, watching the intellect carefully in order to catch thoughts as soon as they would arise.</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Drifting, unresponsive mind.</b> This one was most likely late at night, when I was sleepy, but could occur at any time. The mind seemed shallow, contracted, crude, inflexible, intractable. Attempts to note an object would seem almost futile, since even when the mind wasn’t wandering, the noting would simply “bounce off” the object without penetration, as though I were trying to drive a nail into a rock. There wasn’t much that could be done about it, as the ability to do anything of the sort was itself compromised.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “The breathing problem” (dyspnea).</b> This is a peculiar phenomenon that traditionally arises when I do intensive Dharma practice. Technically it is called a “hysterical conversion reaction,” a psychosomatic symptom in which my breathing becomes irregular, and I experience an intense urge to inhale very deeply, like heaving a sigh, in order to make a strange feeling near my sternum (temporarily) disappear. It is somewhat similar to the reflex to yawn. It was distracting and unpleasant, but I managed to resist it much of the time by applying mindfulness: I would simply observe the strange urge to sigh, without acting upon it. It was very similar to not scratching an itch, but just watching it mindfully. (For that matter, some or most of the facial itches I experienced may have been psychosomatic.)</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Compulsive saliva swallowing. </b>Especially during the latter half of the retreat I continually experienced a compulsive urge to swallow while meditating, much more than was normal. Excessive psychosomatic salivation may have been part of the problem; and I usually just swallowed, as it felt as though my mouth was filling with slobber. I applied mindfulness but still obeyed the urge to swallow.</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Tightness in chest, with difficulty in breathing deeply. </b>There were a few times, especially at night, when I was usually most “vulnerable” to my own mind fighting against the practice, when my chest would become very tight, making it somewhat difficult to breathe. Deliberately relaxing the muscles in my chest had little effect, and it seemed that the tightness in question was deeper than the pectoral muscles anyway. It felt as though my upper torso was locking up with tension. It was pretty obviously a kind of passive aggression carried out by the subconscious mind or ego, and at times I just wanted to slap myself for sabotaging the practice.</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Leaning.” </b>A few times I felt as though I were leaning to the side, or too far forward, or too far backward, and would then apply some mindfulness of bodily posture in order to gauge the situation and correct it. But in such cases I found that I wasn’t leaning at all. It was just another strange distraction.</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Twitches and painful muscle spasms.</b> I experienced an unusual amount of twitching and painful spasms during the retreat, so I suppose that at least some of it was also a psychosomatic symptom of the character fighting against significant change.<b>&nbsp;</b></div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Discouragement and an inclination to give up.</b> As with everything else that arises, the best strategy for dealing with discouragement is simply to note it and let it go, every time it arises. It’s just a mental state, and is not “me.”&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “The great forgetting.” </b>A common experience of many people after a retreat is that they feel “blissed out” after leaving it and returning to the so-called “real world”; they can feel the momentum of calmness and mental subtlety continuing from the retreat for days afterwards, especially when dealing with unblissful, hectic non-meditators. I have experienced this in the past also. But after the recent retreat it was virtually nonexistent; there was an immediate dissipation of momentum. It was as though some aspect of my mind wanted to blot out the effects of the retreat as quickly and totally as possible, or maybe it just backlashed automatically as a way of restoring the previous equilibrium.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Based on my studies of history and the biographies of saints, it appears that such phenomena as those listed above, and even more severe ones like hallucinations and life-threatening physical debilities, occur even in very highly advanced spiritual beings. The karma-induced flow of unspiritual and even anti-spiritual mental states continues to arise, based upon momentum from the past. According to Buddhist texts, even a fully enlightened being experiences such past-conditioned mental states. The main difference between them and the rest of us is that they are not carried away by them. They are mindful and detached, presumably, and allow them to arise and pass away, without being caught.<b>&nbsp;</b></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This explanation of anti-Dharmic sabotage—i.e., that it is caused by the unstoppable flow of karmic volitions from the past—is just one way of accounting for the phenomenon. Another is that a person’s ego or force of character is like an animal, and, like an animal, will fight for its life against perceived threats to its existence.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another way of explaining the phenomenon (and these explanations are not necessarily mutually exclusive, as there is always more than one way of looking at things) is in terms of <i>addiction</i>. It is not only drugs that one can become addicted to. We are addicted to thinking, addicted to anger, addicted to lust, addicted to the unhappiness that we think we are trying to eliminate, addicted to everything we do habitually, addicted to existence itself. (This last, comprehensive addiction is called <i>bhavo</i> in Pali.) Thus when we go “cold turkey” on our addictions we go through a kind of withdrawal, and the subconscious mind starts becoming desperate, and behaving desperately.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The next interpretation occurred to me while I was at the retreat: Radical self-restraint like that practiced at a Mahasi meditation retreat has an obstructing effect on the normal flow of our energies. We sleep little, move in slow motion, avoid interpersonal interaction, avoid “having fun,” and essentially avoid everything except self-observation and the necessities of bodily maintenance. Furthermore, when our meditation gets deeper our breath rate and presumably also our metabolic rate decrease to well below the norm. The effect is similar to damming a river, with the usual, habitual energy, or at least some of it, gradually building up more and more pressure behind the dam; and if the dam is not perfect the reservoir behind it may burst through in a dramatic eruption, or more likely find obscure ways of flowing around it. One certainly feels as though one’s natural inclinations are being dammed up. It is a deep, chronic frustrated feeling.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The obvious question which arises here is: What can we do about it? How do we practice Dhamma without our subconscious ego sabotaging the whole thing and turning it into a mess? One venerated, traditional approach is the application of the principle in the quote by Jung at the top of this post: One cannot simply evaporate unskillful momentum, so one transmutes it into a more skillful form, in accordance with the Law of Conservation of Energy. To give a very basic example of this, it has been well known for hundreds of years that the surest cure for dipsomania (an old word for alcohol addiction) is <i>theomania</i>, that is, addiction to God—or in other words, to “find religion.” Very messed-up troublemakers can really clean up their lives by becoming religious fanatics…with the same intense emotional investment in their new religion as they had for their former troublemaking. Most if not all of them consider this energetic phase change to be an excellent tradeoff, even though some of their friends and family might prefer the old party animal to the new evangelist. But although keeping oneself out of trouble by giving oneself an addiction less destructive, yet of equal intensity, is only a makeshift. One still has an equivalent magnitude of karmic momentum keeping one stuck in Samsara. Ideally the new addiction will be designed in such a way that the person is able to gradually, gently outgrow it, and leave it behind. But it doesn’t always work that way.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A more advanced alternative, and one more likely to be successful in the long run, if one can manage it, is to practice mindfulness with a vengeance. Watch the addiction, watch the symptoms, note them, and let them go. And keep doing that for as long as it takes. It may be damned unpleasant at times, but we watch the damned unpleasantness too, since that also is a symptom, and note it, and let it go. And if we keep doing it, and don’t give up, then the strength of the old habits/addictions/karma expends itself without being reinforced, and without being simply translated into an equivalent problem. An old habit is like a stray dog: If you keep feeding it, it may never go away; but if you stop feeding it, it may hang around for quite awhile, but eventually it will give up and clear out. The same goes for the ego monster itself.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><b>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</b></div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aswnWXiMrZk/VsK9JTkz9_I/AAAAAAAABnU/jZKxifgcVhg/s1600/Kirk%2Bvs.%2Bthe%2BGorn.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aswnWXiMrZk/VsK9JTkz9_I/AAAAAAAABnU/jZKxifgcVhg/s400/Kirk%2Bvs.%2Bthe%2BGorn.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-11831250390119472082016-02-13T15:29:00.000-08:002016-03-28T15:22:50.941-07:00Vaṇṇamālā<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything. —</i>Tyler Durden, in the movie <i>Fight Club</i></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; When I first moved into Taungpulu Kaba-Aye Monastery with the intention of becoming a monk, one of the lay attendants already residing there was a tallish, thinnish, middle-aged German woman with long, light brown hair, who went by the name of Vaṇṇamālā. She had previously been a disciple of the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, with the Hindu name Sarjana; and after the illustrious Bhagwan was evicted from the United States, she apparently went in search of a new guru, and somehow settled upon the old Burmese abbot of TKAM, venerable Hlaing Tet Sayadaw. I was told that she had lived at the monastery before, and had been kicked out for unspecified reasons; but to the surprise of some of the others associated with the place, she had been invited back by the monastery’s administration in San Francisco, presumably with the intention of utilizing her as a “mole” for supplying the administration with information on the goings-on at the monastery.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Both of us stayed in the laypeople’s area on the lower floor of the main building, and we naturally interacted sometimes. She was friendly and liked to talk—although her slow, rambling, roundabout way of talking caused me to feel frustrated and uneasy, as I would know the end of her sentences long before she ever reached them. The feeling was somewhat similar to how I would feel as a young man driving behind a hat-wearing old fellow going ten miles below the speed limit. It was like, “OK, come on, you can move onto the next sentence, because I already know this one!” I tended to steer clear of her, as did others. But there were no real problems, at first.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The situation escalated into a full-blown predicament about two months after my arrival, at approximately the same time as my ordination as a bhikkhu. Venerable Mahasi U Paṇḍita of Burma was leading a two-week intensive meditation retreat at our monastery, and we lay attendants were encouraged to join the retreat. It turned out that I was so preoccupied with preparing to renounce the world that I dropped out after a few days, but Vaṇṇamālā was keen on meditation and was going for it. Maybe she was going for it a little too intensively, however, as at one point she apparently had what could be called a psychotic episode: She began hearing voices and became convinced that she had attained “samādhi concentration” and had become fully enlightened. Due to this and a few other contributing factors, the retreat organizers changed their minds and told the monastery attendants, including Vaṇṇamālā, that they shouldn’t participate in the retreat any longer. But Vaṇṇamālā’s “enlightenment” continued unabated.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For several days afterwards she appeared very disheveled, as though she were drunk, and would stagger and/or dance around, occasionally giggling to herself. One day she walked many miles to Santa Cruz to consult a certain book at a New Age metaphysical bookstore, to verify her belief that she was enlightened. Once I overheard her saying to someone that “the voice” had told her that now was the time for her to begin her “energy teachings.” On another occasion when she was serving Hlaing Tet Sayadaw his breakfast, she informed him, “Now a Buddha is serving you.” Her behavior became so erratic that another one of the attendants downstairs, a young Chinese woman, was expressing some serious alarm. But instead of expelling Vaṇṇamālā, the administration in San Francisco expelled the Chinese woman.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Vaṇṇamālā stopped going to the kitchen to receive her meals, insisting that someone bring her food to her, as was done for Sayadaw. She also began insisting that people bow to her, as they did to the monks. Most importantly from a practical point of view, she stopped helping in the kitchen, and stopped serving as an attendant altogether. At one point there was a shortage of monastery attendants, or “kappiyas”; and we monks (I was ordained by this time) would be in the kitchen washing dishes while Vaṇṇamālā would be sitting in the yard playing with the cats.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Sometimes people would confront her and ask why she wasn’t helping out anymore. She might give some reply to the effect that some people like cats and some people don’t like cats; but as for herself, she liked them. If the inquisitor persisted, brushing aside the non sequiturs with, “That’s fine Vaṇṇamālā, but why don’t you help in the kitchen anymore?” she would eventually close her eyes, tilt her head back a little, assume a blissful smile, and become immobile like a statue until the troublemaker eventually went away.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; She had two main allies at the monastery: the venerable abbot himself, who did not speak English and did not understand what she said, and who was rather a simple village person anyway; and Michael, another one of the lay attendants who, like Vaṇṇamālā herself, was living on the outer fringe of acceptability and remained there largely due to the favor of Sayadaw. He was one of those interesting, hot-blooded, abrasive Hebrew guys who inevitably rub some people the wrong way, although I personally liked him. Michael had a very high opinion of Hlaing Tet Sayadaw, and one day, to my amazement, he informed me that, according to Sayadaw, Vaṇṇamālā had attained second jhāna. That was good enough for Michael. As for myself, however, I had begun to suspect that Vaṇṇamālā was mentally unhinged.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I looked up her symptoms in a home medical guide at the monastery—tangential thought, hearing voices, freezing like a statue, seeing no point in cooperation with others, etc.—and it appeared that she had a classic, textbook case of schizophrenia. However, to my further amazement, when I would mention this to others at the monastery, nobody would believe me. Aside from Sayadaw, who seemed to believe that she had second jhāna, the other Burmese monks figured she was just pretending because she didn’t want to work in the kitchen. (At least one Burmese monk openly despised her, referring to her as “the snake.”) The only other Western monk there, besides me, was an avid student of Abhidhamma; and since Abhidhamma does not account for mental illness, except to the extent that it asserts that <i>everyone</i> who is not fully enlightened is insane, he denied that schizophrenia even exists. When I broached the subject with the secretary of the board of directors she immediately exclaimed, “<i>Michael’s</i> the crazy one!” I was eventually vindicated, however: There was a research psychiatrist interested in Buddhism who would visit sometimes; and once when we were at a nearby park I was giving a few details about the strange goings-on at the monastery, not even for the purpose of presenting Vaṇṇamālā as a case for his professional consideration, and he interrupted me to say, “It sounds like you’ve got a psychotic living there.” He was not a psychiatrist who minced words.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; At this point I digress with the purpose of discussing certain words which might be applied to people like Vaṇṇamālā. “Crazy” and “insane,” and to some degree even “psychotic,” are viewed as politically incorrect, derogatory, and offensive now, with a term like “mentally ill” being considered more polite and acceptable. But I consider such political correctness to consist largely of silliness and bovine herd instinct. “Crazy” has acquired connotations that are not entirely negative, for example one can be “crazy” about something that one really likes, or call something or someone “crazy” out of intense admiration; whereas “ill” is always, or almost always, used as a negative term. “Mentally ill” may thus be seen as more condescending, with more negative connotations, and possibly even more derogatory. Furthermore, I do not consider <i>all</i> so-called psychoses to be states of mental illness: some of them may simply be very unorthodox interpretations of reality. And as the Buddhist texts avow, aside from a few fully enlightened beings, we are <i>all</i> psychotic.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, some traditional cultures consider “crazy” people to be beloved of the gods, and under their special protection. (I am reminded of an old Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers comic in which the three hippies go to Mexico, and Fat Freddie, one of the three, ingests some shamanic substance which causes him to identify with his totem animal, the pig. He gets naked in public, wallows in mud, and so on, with no Mexican person daring to try to stop him. When a Mexican official is scolded by an American for this, he bashfully replies, “Is against Mexican custom to touch a naked crazy man…”) From a more Buddhist perspective it may be that such a person has such unusual mental states that they are producing unusual karma. Whatever the explanation, Vaṇṇamālā seemed to enjoy some special protection. She seemed blessed in a way.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o0fa_hIQwmE/VqvMxzDCuJI/AAAAAAAABlA/Tl_RiPWkfwA/s1600/freaks%2Bin%2Bmexico.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="383" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o0fa_hIQwmE/VqvMxzDCuJI/AAAAAAAABlA/Tl_RiPWkfwA/s400/freaks%2Bin%2Bmexico.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Every attempt to be rid of her, even by the legal owners of the property, ended in failure. Vaṇṇamālā was a particularly sore trial for a fellow named Ravi, who became the monastery’s resident chief attendant. Regardless of how irrational or demanding she could be, Hlaing Tet Sayadaw always took her side, and would scold Ravi for not doing her bidding. On one famous occasion this caused Ravi literally to burst into tears of unbearable frustration. Finally he decided to take matters into his own hands by reporting Vaṇṇamālā to the US immigration authorities, as she was a foreigner who had been living in America without a valid visa for years. But the American immigration service was (and still is) so overwhelmed with illegal immigrant Mexicans that they wanted nothing to do with a German quasi-nun living at a monastery. One time the administration called the police to have her evicted. Vaṇṇamālā simply led the officer to Sayadaw; the policeman asked him if he wanted her to go, he answered No, and that was the end of that. The officer got into his car and drove away. On another occasion the owners of the property started a formal eviction procedure of some sort. Vaṇṇamālā’s only hope was to go to Sacramento and sign some kind of form, which would somehow defuse the attempt; although she seemed indifferent to the threat. Just then a young Burmese man who had developed a virulent hatred for the monastery’s administration, going with the idea “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” volunteered to drive her to Sacramento so she could sign the papers, which is what came to pass. On still another occasion a large group of supporters of the monastery, along with most of the monks, met with Sayadaw, trying to explain to him that Vaṇṇamālā was calling herself a Buddha, was not in her right mind, and was a serious disturbance at the monastery; and Sayadaw, although he did not understand English, denied everything. He simply replied, in Burmese, “No, she didn’t say that.” (He had a similar attitude toward the current military regime in Burma also: When Burmese people would explain to him that they saw with their own eyes soldiers shooting people in the streets, he would tell them, “No, you didn’t see that. That didn’t happen.”)&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Finally, one day when Vaṇṇamālā was elsewhere, some of the people from San Francisco came to the monastery, put all the personal stuff that was in her room into plastic bags, moved the bags into the garage, and locked her out of the laypeople’s quarters. While this was happening one of the gentler members of the board stood next to me and said, “It’s hard to know what is the right thing to do, you know?” And, cynical young monk that I was at the time, I replied, “Sometimes there is no right thing. Sometimes you have to choose between two wrong ones.” When Vaṇṇamālā returned, she quietly took her stuff out of the garage and moved into a tent in the back woods which had been set up for meditators. She lived there for months, and before winter set in she found a meditation cabin that had been carelessly left unlocked and moved into that. None of these many efforts seemed to bother her very much, if at all. She almost always seemed serene; and, despite her aggravating refusal to cooperate with anyone, she did meditate a lot. She would sit on a cushion in the back of the meditation room, leaning back against the wall, with a peaceful smile on her face. I may as well mention that by this time she had acquired a small following of New Age people from town who would occasionally come to see her.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I made occasional, feeble attempts not to dislike her. She could be very exasperating, for example by her aforementioned inability to see any point in cooperating with anyone. Also, she seemed to be rather smug after her “enlightenment.” She was of the opinion that there were three people at the monastery with “attainment”: herself, Hlaing Tet Sayadaw, and another German laywoman, who was continually having crises and was quite amused to be listed among the arahants. The rest of us were dismissed as inferiors, or so it seemed at times. One time, when the police had been called to have Vaṇṇamālā removed from the premises, I took the trouble to write her a note pointing out that in all probability she would be thrown out, and that, even if she wasn’t, the majority were antagonistic to her and wanted her gone. I urged her, for her own sake (as well as everyone else’s), to leave peacefully and voluntarily. She read the note, serenely rolled it up, and stuck it under the arm of the big Buddha statue on the main altar. On another occasion her sister in Germany called to wish Vaṇṇamālā a happy birthday. I happened to answer the phone, so I went to her to convey the message. I tried to be friendly; but Vaṇṇamālā responded with such effusiveness and such a bright, deep, intense look into my eyes that I quickly started backing away. Mostly I just avoided her, which was pretty easy to do after I became a monk. Once or twice the other Western monk and I discussed possible strategies for feeling mettā towards her, or at least maintaining equanimity towards her.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But the possibility of successful friendliness pretty much evaporated about a year after her enlightenment, at which time she began declaring herself a fully ordained bhikkhuni. It was just too much. She would say “It’s official,” and produce a certificate declaring her to be an eight-precept yogi—that is, a layperson. She began shaving her head, and every day too, so that her scalp was always shiny. One day as I was approaching the back of the main monastery building I saw Vaṇṇamālā’s shining head slowly, serenely coming up the steps from the lower yard…and I almost snapped. I’ve heard of seeing red when one is very angry, but on this occasion I experienced a flash of fury that was white-hot; I spun on my heels seeing white and stood with my back turned to her, fists clenched, until I got a grip on myself. Monasteries and ashrams, being places of unnatural self-restraint, can be like a dangerous pressure cooker sometimes. One former lay attendant called our monastery a “shit accelerator.”</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As it turned out, shortly after Vaṇṇamālā transitioned to bhikkhuni status I moved out, or fled, to Asia. Only occasionally would I hear some bit of news from California. One tidbit I received was that Vaṇṇamālā had acquired some monk robes and was wearing them. Also, everyone apparently gave up on trying to get rid of her, since absolutely nothing was working.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A year or so after my arrival in Burma old Hlaing Tet Sayadaw, wishing to spend his final years in the country of his birth, returned to Burma for good. With Vaṇṇamālā’s focus of bhakti gone, as well as her great protector, she quickly left TKAM of her own accord. The next I heard she was staying at Bhavana Society, Bhante Gunaratana’s place in West Virginia. I suspect Bhante was not overly enthusiastic about his new nun, as shortly thereafter he came to Burma with Vaṇṇamālā in tow, and she was deposited at, or just found her own way to, Hlaing Tet Sayadaw’s monastery in the village of Hlaing Tet, in central Burma. Whether Sayadaw was glad to see her or not I don’t know, but I would guess that nobody else was overjoyed by her presence. Within a relatively short time she was unable to get her visa renewed, possibly due to supporters dragging their feet, and so she left Burma; and that’s the last I ever heard of her.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I have no idea where she is now. She could be here in California as the leader of some small New Age spiritual movement for all I know. Or she could be in a mental hospital. Maybe she went back to Germany. I don’t know. One thing I do know now though, much better than I did in those days, is the value of difficult or unpleasant challenges like the ones Vaṇṇamālā provided. People like Vaṇṇamālā—and people very different from her, but just as difficult to deal with—“trigger” us; they help to bring up latent attachments, facilitating them being shoved into our face, so that we can see our own rigidity and immaturity, our own limitations, and thereby give us a golden opportunity to understand and outgrow them. It is difficult to understand and let go of what you cannot see. The Russian philosopher/guru George Gurdjieff was famous for deliberately keeping obnoxious, really troublesome people at his ashram for this very reason. Such people can really help us to wake up, if we let them. But at the time I just couldn’t appreciate Vaṇṇamālā for the treasure that she was. (Even so, if I ever do start a place in the West, and she were to show up asking for admittance, I probably would not let her stay! Deliberately making life difficult for oneself is not necessarily the Middle Path. But I don’t know.) I do wish her well, wherever she is. I would much prefer that she be a New Age icon than a patient at a mental institution.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-62KgZdFoPrA/VqvNJ46SiWI/AAAAAAAABlI/C4cC8hRPstc/s1600/PB250618*.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-62KgZdFoPrA/VqvNJ46SiWI/AAAAAAAABlI/C4cC8hRPstc/s400/PB250618*.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p3"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p3"><br /></div><div class="p3"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-33222792785429687122016-02-06T00:01:00.000-08:002016-02-06T23:32:20.359-08:00Last Call<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><i>“We hope for more non-conformists among you, for your sake, for the sake of the nation, and for the sake of humanity.”&nbsp; —</i>Paul Tillich, at a university graduation ceremony in 1957<br /><br /><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;This is going to be a tricky one to write. I intend to write what may be called my final offer to the Western World. I have been advised, though, that calling it a “final offer” sounds overly dramatic, and that nothing is really “final” anyhow. But some things really are final, or so it seems to me. Funerals, cremations, and lost virginity are pretty much irrevocable, for example. The main trickiness comes in making the offer in such a way that some people seriously consider it, and are motivated by it, while I remain honest while writing it! I’ve made numerous attempts in the past, adopting various approaches, including cheerful optimism, cynical criticism, joking, teasing, taunting, and even some virtual double-dog daring; and thus far nothing has really worked. So this is challenging. One thing I do know is that even though a positive, friendly attitude has not been really effective in this particular case, it is still much better than a negative one, if only for me personally. But the felt necessity of being strictly factual may result in the general tone being no better than affectively neutral. All we can do is the best we can. And the offer itself is a positive one.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A big reason why I make this offer is that, simply stated, Western civilization as it is, is not conducive to genuine happiness, or to wisdom. Two reasons for this are that the Western perspective deals mainly with the superficial appearances of things, with society rarely encouraging anyone to penetrate past the surface; and that Western culture is heavily based upon <i>desire</i>, which according to Buddhism is the cause of all suffering. It’s practically the same as suffering. So it could be invaluable to Western people to question the authority of the West and to gain a working understanding of some fundamental Eastern wisdom, which can allow a better understanding of mental clarity and happiness; and it could be helpful and very interesting to have a nonconformist philosopher around to point at what is really beneath the surface. I consider myself to be extraordinarily qualified for this, at least in some respects. I encourage, and can teach, enough detachment from the system that people are less entangled in it, more “empowered,” and more able to make wise choices with regard to the strange tangle Western life has become. It is very difficult to improve a situation when you are entangled in it. It’s like trying to fold your clothes while the clothes, and you also, are going around and around inside the dryer. From a more holistic or “touchy-feely” point of view, I feel that teaching Dhamma/Dharma in the West would be most conducive to a “positive flow of energy,” for the benefit of everyone.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, the offer is this: I would be happy, possibly even overjoyed, to stay in the West and teach Dhamma/Dharma under the following conditions. First, that a person or group of persons (ideally more than one individual) provide an empty house, an empty building, or an empty apartment, preferably with no furniture at all except maybe for a table, with a bathroom that works, for at least one month. There should be one room large enough to accommodate everyone who wants to meditate with me, or listen to talks, or discuss Dhamma/Dharma. Also I would require someone to offer one bowlful of food at least six mornings a week. During this time I would be happy to meet with people and teach or discuss what is of interest, presumably with an emphasis on Buddhist meditation and philosophy. We could have group meditation sits, with instruction beforehand for beginners if necessary, and days or weekends of more intensive practice. And once per month we could have an intensive meditation retreat, the discussion of which deserves its own paragraphs.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Here’s my idea—The retreat would be 15 to 21 days long, with everyone participating full time, from the first day. For the most part it would be intensive Vipassana, or mindfulness meditation, similar to, say, the Mahasi tradition of Burma, but without much traditional Burmese Theravada Buddhist ideology being emphasized as interpretation. We would be there to discipline ourselves, meditate, and experience whatever happens in the moment, not to attain some goal described in a book, with less theory and perhaps more “meta-theory” (i.e., detached examination of whatever theory comes up). There would be interviews, preferably group interviews, with the instructor (me) at least twice per week, and every day if the meditator likes, with “emergency interviews” available if called for. I consider myself to be qualified for facilitating this sort of process. What would make it more interesting and more useful, though, would be the first day and the last few days of the retreat, which would be largely for the purpose of helping everyone to integrate Dhamma practice into worldly life, helping us to take what we gain home with us.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Most intensive retreats in an orthodox Theravadin context require the meditators to keep silent and mind their own business, not even looking at each other any more than is necessary. Intensive introspection pretty much requires it; and that is what we would be doing most of the time. But on the first day everyone would introduce themselves, explaining concisely who they are and why they are there, and we would have a rather personal group discussion for clarifying what we as a group are doing, and where we are at. So although for most of the retreat we’ll be indulging in minimal interaction, the first day will help to establish a feeling of “us,” a lingering reminder that we are all together in the same boat, so to speak. Although we’ll be turned inward, there should be a context of mutual support, or community, or “tribe.”&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Also, the last few days will be dedicated in part to mindful interaction. I have some ideas for this, and hopefully others can give input to help shape the practices involved. For example, before the end everyone at the retreat would practice eye contact meditation with everyone else there, meditating while looking directly into the other’s eyes, for at least one session of, say, twenty minutes. There would be no artificial mettā meditation, but more opportunities for spontaneous, genuine mettā. There would be more sharing of personal experiences during these last few days. There would not necessarily be any actual physical touching, except maybe for optional mindful hugs at the closing ceremony. I feel it could help to bring mindfulness and deep compassion out of the empty building and into society, where it is much needed.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One possible complication is that such intensive interaction might be too much for some Westerners to handle. One time a married couple came to me and were telling me of their troubles together, and I advised them to try my brand of eye gazing meditation, which can be really beautiful; and although the wife was quite willing, the husband couldn’t manage it. It was too intensely personal for him, even with his own wife! For that matter, the intensive retreat itself, including the more traditional mindfulness practice (walk, sit, walk, sit, for many hours a day) may not be for beginners. Buddhist practice can be challenging, with the more radical stuff being not for everyone, but it’s well worth it, even invaluable.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another practical consideration is that I do not like the idea of charging money for a retreat, or for Dhamma/Dharma. I consider what I have to offer to be priceless, and for anyone who wants it, completely setting aside the fact that it is against the rules of monastic discipline for me to charge money, or to consent to that. But if the space is already available, then the only issue would be food, plus maybe utilities. I suppose the issue of supplying the space, etc., would be taken care of by others before I arrive.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A more subtle one is that although I love and revere Dharma and am glad to share it, I am no evangelist. If people come to me, or invite me to their place, that’s great, but I have no desire to go door to door or to market or hype myself, in order to find people who can appreciate what I’m offering. And I tend to avoid being a chronically smiling, politically correct Dharma politician. Simply being as conscious as possible, and following one’s conscience, is good enough. I have been a reclusive contemplative philosopher type for many years, which is appropriate for a Theravada Buddhist bhikkhu. But I still think the empty house idea, with the monthly retreat, is a good one, and a bargain offer. I think it could even be fun.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Anyway, if nobody accepts this offer by the end of February, approximately, then I will officially throw up my hands, give up on living in the West, and begin making arrangements to acquire a plane ticket back to Burma, in order to stay in my cave (yes, I live in a cave there) indefinitely. Even if I go back to Burma I wouldn’t be totally deaf to invitations, if, that is, they were substantial ones that were too good to turn down; but I will have stopped trying. It’s been years already.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In 2011, after years of feeling that I should return to the West, I flung myself back into America, ready or not. It turned out that I was ready, more or less, but that America was not! I have been told, several times by several different enthusiastic people, that America, or the West in general, “<i>needs</i>” me. I can agree with that at a philosophical level; but if it is true, then America and the West have not yet realized the necessity. Even the good people who tell me this, most of them anyway, tend not to do much about it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But the people of the West, as they become more and more committed to extraversion, materialism, and superficiality, become more and more stressed and unhappy. It seems that the best science can do to promote happiness (as opposed to superficial pleasure, comfort, and convenience) is to invent antidepressant medications. But the very purpose of Dhamma is happiness. The modern West invents extraverted sciences for figuring out and manipulating the world, while the ancient East invented profound introspective techniques for understanding what is inside, and keeping one’s mind clear and free. But the West is so invested in a non-dharmic world view that Dhamma/Dharma, and to some degree happiness itself, are dismissed or ignored, or else accepted in only very limited ways. But I’ve written plenty about this elsewhere.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; What I can appreciate now, which I hadn’t fully realized before my return in 2011, is that starting a career as an itinerant philosopher and empty house sitter in the urban West entails essentially diving into the proverbial shit storm. But, as Confucius is said to have said, contemplative philosopher types are most needed in shit storms. And although I’m introverted by nature and could appreciate going back to my Burmese forest and living in relative peace and quiet, with fresh air and more physical exercise, still I feel that the challenge of the West would be a better use of my abilities, and would be good for me as well. There are things I could learn from interaction with other Westerners that are hard to come by alone in a cave. Also I’d be participating in the retreats, which would be good practice for me. So I think everyone involved could benefit greatly, including me. So long as I am skillful enough not to be overwhelmed by a shit typhoon. But I like challenges. Trouble I can handle; but living without food or shelter is something else.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I suppose all this talk of diving into shit storms deserves some clarification. I have lived my life in such a way that I just don’t suffer very much. That’s what Buddhism is all about: living your life so that you don’t suffer very much, ideally living your life so that you don’t suffer at all. It is only since coming back to America, ironically, that I have seen just how much unhappiness there is in the world. Most poor Burmese villagers are actually pretty happy people. So I know how to disintegrate unhappiness with Dharma, yet I have relatively little experience in dealing with really vehement cases of it. There have been times when I’ve been so miserable that I felt like I was dying, especially from seemingly endless, sweltering hot weather; yet there is always a detachment, a level of mindfulness, so that I don’t fully identify with it. Troubles are worldly phenomena, arising and passing away, as all phenomena do. Most of the suffering comes with vehemently identifying with suffering, really believing “I am unhappy,” even insisting upon it. And in the West there is quite a lot of this. Hence the storm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The following may be bad salesmanship, but so what: Can you guess how many regular American supporters I have after all these years? By “regular American supporters” I mean U.S. citizens of European ancestry who offer some physical support, or at least offer to offer some, at least once every three months. Can you guess? No, c’mon, guess. The answer, my friends, is <i>two. </i>And an excuse for one of them is that he married an Asian woman, so he was introduced to a relatively unwesternized form of Buddhism. (I’m not starving, however—Asian Buddhist people supply my needs very generously.) Considering the obvious value of Buddhist philosophy and meditation, and the aforementioned alleged need of the West for people like me, I have often wondered about this. It’s interesting. One theory I came up with in the shower a few days ago is that I have deviated so far from the Western mainstream that I have become like a ghost or sasquatch, living at the verge of materialist reality, with only a few people even able to see me, or like the legendary Spanish Conquistador ships that were invisible to Mayans standing on the shore, because they were so different from anything they had previously perceived. Whatever the reasons, maybe including my own obnoxiousness, I feel that Westerners are blowing a golden opportunity to be guided away from the mainstream, and into a deeper, more reflective, more satisfying life. Anyway, if you are sick and tired of my repeated offers, this is probably the very last one. Which I will now repeat.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So here it is. If you, or someone else out there, provide me with an empty space with minimal furniture, a bowl of food approximately every day, and access to a bathroom, I’ll provide you with access to something invaluable, and a magnificent opportunity for deep Dharma practice with an experienced, intelligent, and somewhat radical teacher, and, ideally, a supportive group environment. And if it doesn’t happen relatively soon, I give up. Either way, be happy, because that’s what we’re here for.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p3"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1okG-z3ifpw/VrVJs0wuvcI/AAAAAAAABms/7oNGjFfAF20/s1600/Surfing%2Ba%2BRiver.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1okG-z3ifpw/VrVJs0wuvcI/AAAAAAAABms/7oNGjFfAF20/s400/Surfing%2Ba%2BRiver.gif" width="286" /></a></div><div class="p3" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p3"><br /></div><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p3">(Thanks to Eline for helping me to soften this up a little.)</div><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div><div class="p3"><br /></div><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div><br /><div class="p4"><i></i><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-2330601914203394112016-01-30T00:47:00.000-08:002016-05-05T18:11:45.204-07:00Appendix on Bhikkhunis and Equality<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In the previous post I discussed the phenomenon of Theravada Buddhist monks “strictly following a corrupt tradition,” that is, breaking the rules in the texts without acknowledging the fact by following later corruptions of those rules. In another recent post I mentioned having seen two of the somewhat controversial new bhikkhunis, the first two I’ve ever seen. And what I noticed is that these bhikkhunis were evidently conforming to the same kind of corruption of monastic discipline as the aforementioned “strict-ish” bhikkhus (for example, neither of them was wearing the regulation clothing of a bhikkhuni), in addition to simply ignoring some of the other rules specifically pertaining to bhikkhunis (for example, with regard to sitting in the presence of a bhikkhu). So this post is a kind of appendix to the previous one—a logical continuation of the same theme, although moving in a tangential direction. The big question herein is: Why revive an ancient order if those who revive it are unwilling to follow the code which defines that ancient order?&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The following discussion may turn out to be very politically incorrect. I’m not deliberately <i>trying</i> to be politically incorrect, although I do freely admit that I consider political correctness to be insane bullshit. Furthermore, cutting through bullshit is one of my callings in life. So mainly I’m just trying to cut through some bullshit here, so that somebody might see a certain situation with a little more clarity, or at least from a different angle. *Fair warning*<br /><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; How many new bhikkhunis sit crosslegged, say, when they meditate? Guess. Probably most if not all of them, right? I figure that’s probably the case. But did you know that it is against the code of monastic discipline for a bhikkhuni to sit crosslegged? She is required by the Pali Vinaya to sit with both feet tucked in to one side, the way Burmese women traditionally sit. Almost every Vinaya rule comes with an official explanation for why the Buddha established the rule in the first place, and the official reason for the prohibition on nuns sitting crosslegged is to prevent them from “consenting to the touch of the heel.” I. B. Horner, the translator of the Pali Text Society’s English rendering of Vinaya, included in her translation a quaint, innocent little note discussing the question of whose heel these nuns were consenting to. Based upon an ignorance of the lotus position and/or of human anatomy, combined with some old-fashioned maidenly naïveté, she concluded that bhikkhunis sitting in a group were causing distraction by having their protruding heels rubbing against other bhikkhunis. Personally, however, I don’t think her theory is correct. Long ago, before my ordination, a female friend told me that as a young girl she learned how to masturbate by sitting on her heel and rocking back and forth; and I’m pretty sure that that’s what “consenting to the touch of the heel” really means. So the rule which probably nobody follows is intended to prevent nuns from turning their meditation into a masturbatory experience.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It may be that most of the new bhikkhunis are simply ignorant of the existence of this rule, although ignorance is no excuse for breaking it. Even if they find out, I’d guess that they’ll continue to sit crosslegged, possibly without seeing it as an offense. It could be argued that the rule shouldn’t be followed because it discriminates against women: monks are allowed to sit crosslegged, and nuns aren’t. On the other hand, some rules are less strict for nuns than for monks, but that is not used as an excuse for monks to ignore their own rules. For example, masturbation itself is a much more serious offense for monks than for nuns; but monks don’t refuse to do penance for masturbation using this discrimination as an excuse. Besides, the rule against bhikkhunis sitting crosslegged is due in large part to the biological fact that female genitalia are designed differently from that of males; and there’s not much that can be done about that. So again, women want to be acknowledged as bhikkhunis, but they don’t want to follow the ancient discipline required of bhikkhunis. This strikes me as a serious stroke against the credibility of their cause. &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It isn’t just “lesser and minor rules” either which may be seen as discriminatory against ordained women. Bhikkhunis have twice as many pārājika rules—the most serious rules, which result in automatic excommunication if broken—as bhikkhus have; and anyone who understands how Vinaya works knows that there’s no way in hell that that is going to be changed. It can’t be changed, unless maybe via some extraordinarily radical decree of an international Great Council of the Sangha, which is very unlikely to happen. Also, the ordination procedure discriminates against women, for example by the embarrassing personal questions asked of a woman before she is ordained; and changing these rules would no doubt be seen by many conservatives as simply rendering the ordination invalid, thereby worsening the situation.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Many politically correct individuals, especially in the West, vehemently insist that the bhikkhuni order must be revived <i>and</i> immediately modified, not caring about such quibbles as technical validity or even democracy, for the sake of gender equality—despite the plain fact that inequality is built deeply into the system of the Bhikkhuni Sangha. In this case political correctness trumps obvious facts and also the will of the majority, the majority here being the majority of Theravada Buddhist monastics, almost all of whom are Asian. The whole situation is quite a dilemma. &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So again, the big question is: Why go to the trouble of reviving an ancient system that pretty much nobody really wants to follow, and then immediately overhaul it so that it is no longer the ancient system, but is something else? Why try to reinstate an extinct order defined by Vinaya, and then reject much of the same Vinaya which defines it? The answer seems pretty obvious: Mainly what these folks want is the <i>name</i>, the official status, the worldly recognition of women being genuine bhikkhunis, which is largely a desire to make a political statement, to assert an idealized social principle. The trouble with this is that names, official status, and worldly recognition (let alone political statements) are part of the very same worldliness that a true renunciant is supposed to renounce. It has nothing to do with genuine Dhamma. It is a symptom of Western mentality that social issues, political correctness, and other superficialities take precedence over what is truly essential. What is truly essential often isn’t even on the radar.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I have suggested before (and I still think it is a good idea) that an obvious solution to the dilemma of reviving an ancient system that pretty much nobody wants to follow is <i>to start a new order</i>. Maybe two orders could be started—one for women, and one for men. The founding members could establish whatever rules they considered to be appropriate for a modern world, with female and male monastics being completely equal, so that presumably it would be a matter of seniority and nothing else that would determine who bowed to whom, and who got to go through the doorway first. Technically it wouldn’t amount to full ordination as bhikkhunis and bhikkhus, but so what; I do not believe that official ordination into a particular ancient tradition is necessary for enlightenment anyway, and enlightenment is supposedly the main purpose of the whole thing. Furthermore, this way would not amount to real schism, so long as the women and men were not claiming to be really ordained bhikkhunis and bhikkhus. The Japanese Buddhists and the Catholics already have something like this. I would guess that the officially ordained Theravadin Sangha would even allow the existence and affiliation of a kind of quasi-Sangha more suited to the West. Possibly the biggest problem with this scheme, if it were really to become manifest, is that politically correct Westerners might make a deliberate show of disrespecting the older monastic system as remaining incorrigibly sexist…which could then warrant dissociation from Theravada proper. We would then have a new sect—Navakavada, or “Doctrine of the Newcomers”—which might still manage to avoid the stigma of schism if its members just minded their own business and did not consider themselves to be officially ordained bhikkhunis and bhikkhus. They could call themselves anything else they liked, however. I think it could be a really good idea, and one more likely to be without sticky problems than reviving the official bhikkhuni order, or just controversially attempting to revive it, and then mutating it, in the face of opposition of the majority and lack of official recognition.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But of course, this scheme would not provide what many appear to consider the essential point of the thing: the absurd crap of worldly status, which crap of course the new renunciants ideally should be renouncing. It’s the name “bhikkhuni” that seems to be the primary issue for some. Trying to reconcile Dhamma/Dharma with the Western point of view is really a dilemma. Dhamma just doesn’t fit into Western society without it being dismembered and the pieces that fit stuck in around the edges.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In Buddhism it is taught that it is the inner state that is most important; the outward form of things is of secondary importance at best. Good and bad, right and wrong, just and unjust, are mental and volitional, not external, physical phenomena. And even the Pali texts show the Buddha freely admitting that women are the spiritual equals of men, being equally capable of enlightenment. So really, if women are not equal to men NOW, they never will be, unless maybe genetic engineering or some such changes one or both human genders. What is on the inside is what really matters, and what is on the outside is supposed to be mindfully let go of by a renunciant. If you think that artificial laws, social patterns, and political correctness will somehow make women equal, and that they are not equal already, then you are more worldly, superficial, and sexist than I am. But maybe more about this some other time.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If there are any women who read this who want to be real bhikkhunis, then I respectfully suggest that you follow the real rules for bhikkhunis, and not an amputated, mutated version of same. On the other hand, if you don’t want to subject yourself to such discrimination, which is understandable, then please <i>create something better. </i>Something different.<i> </i>I know you are equal, and I’m really on your side, and am willing to help. At least I feel like&nbsp;I’m on your side.&nbsp;<i>appamādena sampādetha.</i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p2"><i><br /></i></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aJiqRxcQuxA/VpnuNQOkKjI/AAAAAAAABjg/mMUuhBVNHFE/s1600/Trinity%2Band%2BNeo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aJiqRxcQuxA/VpnuNQOkKjI/AAAAAAAABjg/mMUuhBVNHFE/s1600/Trinity%2Band%2BNeo.gif" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><i style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">a modern Western conception of female equality</span></i></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><div class="p1"><b><br /></b></div><div class="p1"><b>APPENDIX TO THE APPENDIX: MASTURBATION RULES AND THE ORIGINS OF THE BHIKKHUNI MONASTIC CODE</b></div><div class="p2"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In the foregoing discussion I mentioned that the rules against masturbation in the pātimokkhas for monks and nuns differ between the sexes. There are more rules in place for preventing bhikkhunis from playing with themselves <i>at all</i>; yet masturbation all the way to orgasm bears a much stricter penalty for bhikkhus, requiring them to do six days and six nights of penance, followed by a large, inconvenient reinstatement ceremony. In fact nuns' masturbating to orgasm is not mentioned in the Pali, and thus carries no stricter penalty than simply the insertion of a finger past the second knuckle. My explanation for "complete" masturbation being a saṅghādisesa offense for monks and only a medium-severity pācittiya offense for nuns is this: The puritanical celibate Elders who came up with the rules did not know that women are able to have orgasms! Otherwise, there can be little doubt that they would have penalized it severely.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Now, I would assume that Gotama Buddha, being an extremely wise person, would at least be aware of this relatively important aspect of female sexuality. After all, he had lived a sensual life before he renounced the world, and had a wife, and maybe even a harem. Consequently I consider this masturbation rule business to be one of several bits of evidence that the Buddha himself did not devise the bhikkhuni pātimokkha—and possibly not the bhikkhu pātimokkha either. Some very ancient texts actually warn against a renunciant subjecting himself to systematized rules; and it is fairly clear that a primary purpose of the first Great Council, convened after the Buddha's death, was to formulate a monastic code.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There is circumstantial evidence in the Pali texts that some Elders did not like the idea of having a Bhikkhuni Sangha; and the texts themselves have the Buddha himself asserting that instituting it was a bad idea which would greatly shorten the lifespan of the Sāsana in this world. But that assertion, plus much of the negative discrimination, may have been added by the aforementioned unsympathetic Elders who participated in the formulation of official Doctrine. It may be that the Buddha really did allow an order of ordained nuns; but the extant monastic code for these nuns (and maybe for monks too) may not have been his idea.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Therefore, I consider this to be another argument in favor of spiritually-oriented Buddhist women today simply creating a brand new order more sympathetic to the needs of women. In order for it to work, pretty much all that is required is to avoid that one contentious word “bhikkhuni,” since technically a bhikkhuni is defined by the same monastic code which is designed in part to drive women away from the Sangha, and possibly back into the arms of insensitive husbands who don’t even know that they can come.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-55776636022695130562016-01-23T11:57:00.000-08:002016-01-23T23:41:36.815-08:00Technical Matters: Vinaya Rules Even Strict Monks Break<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">or: How to Follow Strictly a Corrupt Tradition</span></b></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; First of all, I would like to specify that the kind of rule-breaking I intend to target in this post is not the kind in which a monk breaks a rule, sees the offense, confesses it, and expiates it. Most strict monks, and almost all “exemplary” ones, do break Vinaya rules in this way regularly, however, so I may as well discuss the matter a little before moving on to the target.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; There are very many Vinaya rules for monks, I’d guess somewhere between two and three thousand. Many of them are obsolete or otherwise difficult to break (e.g. offering food with one’s own hands to a naked non-Buddhist ascetic, using an alms bowl made from a human skull, eating lion meat); but there are plenty than can be broken easily, even by strict monks. For example, the rule against drinking alcohol is worded in such a way that even if the monk drinks something alcoholic accidentally, he still breaks the rule. Thus on one occasion long ago I was offered some herbal medicine stuff that I was assured contained no alcohol, but when I tried a sip of it, it tasted like it was about 80 proof. Or on a few other occasions I was offered some drink that, in the hot Burmese weather, had started to ferment spontaneously; I’d take a drink and the stuff would taste like wine. So in such cases one takes the hit and confesses it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Also, some rules can easily be broken in a moment of careless unrestraint. For example, unnecessarily looking up in a public place (as monks are supposed to look down in public). Or making a humorous reference about somebody else while talking. Or using water while suddenly entertaining the doubt that maybe there are living creatures in it. Such offenses can occur rather often, especially if a monk is not Vinaya-obsessed, and again, the thing to do is simply to confess it, and the ecclesiastical reset button is pushed, clearing the offenses.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Then there are rules that even a serious monk may break deliberately, considering <i>not </i>breaking the rule to be more objectionable than breaking it. For example, it is against Vinaya for a monk to practice medicine on laypeople. The purpose of this is partly to prevent monks from working for a living like “householders who enjoy pleasures of the senses,” with people going to them for health issues rather than Dhamma (with such monks consequently practicing Dhamma less and teaching it less), and another reason is that, if the monk messes up and the person gets worse or dies, then people may blame the Sangha for it. Anyway, when I was living in a remote forest area of Burma a supporter of mine, really a good guy who I liked as a friend, told me that his daughter had had malaria for several months. (Malaria is endemic in this area, and potentially deadly.) I had some state of the art malaria cure; so, even though it was against the rules I considered it to be better to break a minor rule than let a person remain very ill and possibly even die. So I gave him the pills for his daughter, and she got better. Another example of arguably “righteous” rule-breaking occurred long ago when a young and very serious American man wanted to be ordained as a bhikkhu under venerable Taungpulu Sayadaw, but he didn’t have the permission of his parents to be ordained, as they were devout Christians who disapproved of such a course. Taungpulu Sayadaw ordained him anyway, saying, “The Sangha is willing to make the sacrifice.” That is, they were willing to break the minor rule of ordaining a man without his parents’ consent, for the good of helping him to live the Holy Life. Afterwards they confessed the offense.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Then again, there are rules the breaking of which is practically unavoidable. For example, it is against Vinaya to enter a toilet with one’s upper robe on; one should strip to the waist before entering an outhouse. At the same time, it is against Vinaya to remove one’s upper robe in a public place. So any monk who has to use the toilet at a public place just has to choose which rule he prefers to break by taking the pee, since he breaks one either way, yet his back teeth are floating, he has to pee so bad. So in all these cases, when a monk breaks a rule, he just makes confession to another monk, in accordance with other Vinaya rules designed to deal with the situation. It’s all built into the system. Almost all monks break rules like this. There are a very few bhikkhus who are so conscientious, or fanatical, or whatever, that they would actually let a girl drown rather than break a rule by swimming out and saving her, or who never unnecessarily look up in public for that matter. Such are rare specimens.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But, as I say, this kind of rule-breaking, with the monk committing, seeing, and expiating the offense (as I notoriously did in a big way a few years ago), is not the kind of rule-breaking that I intend to discuss here. The kind I intend to discuss is with regard to rules broken chronically and habitually, sometimes even as a matter of monastery policy or venerated tradition, with no acknowledgement of the offense, and consequently no confession or other expiation. Because of this phenomenon even many strict and “exemplary” bhikkhus never have a single day of pure Vinaya restraint or pure morality in the entire course of their life as a monastic.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This sort of thing is common in religious systems, I think. It’s common in the human race. Conformity is seen as essential, even if it is conformity to a corrupt tradition. The idea seems to be, “If everyone else is breaking the same rule, then it’s all right”—but this is essentially a bovine herd instinct, and not Dhamma.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The issue of conformity arose at the second Buddhist great council, in ancient times. Monks had started handling money and breaking other rules, and one topic of debate at the council was whether it was right to follow one’s teacher with regard to Vinaya interpretation and practice. The Theravadin side argued that sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t—implying that following one’s teacher is valid only if one’s teacher’s conduct is in harmony with real Vinaya. The Theravadin side won the debate. So regardless of whether breaking certain rules is justified and universal in a tradition, technically it’s still breaking rules. Following are some examples.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>Clothing (including shoes, hats, etc.): </b>With regard to robes, I may write someday a more technical article than this discussing the originally correct manner of sewing and wearing robes, as well as their correct size, although here I’ll skip the manner in which robes are made, the proper materials, etc., and will just mention one thing about size. According to the 92nd pācittiya rule of the bhikkhu pātimokkha, a monk may not wear a robe as big as or bigger than the Buddha’s upper or outer robe, which was nine handspans by six, according to the size of the Buddha’s own hand. The Vinaya commentarial tradition has decreed that the Buddha’s handspan was 3½ times the length of an ordinary man’s handspan, thereby causing the rule to mean that a monk may not wear a robe more than seven meters in length, which of course is no rule at all, since nobody would even want to wear a robe that big. Assuming that the Buddha’s hand was not much bigger than that of the average monk, and certainly not three and a half times as big, then the size of the average monk’s robe nowadays is about twice the allowable size. If one reads the texts one may see that in the Buddha’s time monks wore relatively small robes; and two of the most influential Vinaya texts in English, the <i>Vinayamukha</i> translation and Ajahn Ṭhanissaro’s <i>The Buddhist Monastic Code</i>, point out this very fact that monks’ robes should be much smaller than the ones usually worn. But if you see a picture of either of the venerable authors of these two books you will see that, more than likely, they also are wearing big robes which they admit are in violation of the rules of Vinaya. Why? Conformity. But that doesn’t make it any less against the rules, even though the author of the <i>Vinayamukha </i>was a Thai Sangharāja. &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The ironic thing about this for me is that monks living in the temperate zone, like in Western countries, continue to wear robes in conformity with a corrupt South Asian tradition, which then serves as a justification for breaking more rules. They continue to wear robes suitable for a hot, tropical climate, with thick cloth being too thick to wear in the peculiar Asian way, especially in the Thai manner with the robe wrapped around one arm most of the time. So this difficulty is seen as a sufficient reason for breaking the rule against keeping and wearing extra clothing also.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; According to the first nissaggiya pācittiya rule of the pātimokkha a monk is allowed to own and wear three robes (lower, upper, and outer), with any clothing in excess of this to be relinquished (given or thrown away) within ten days of acquiring the excess. Any piece of cloth larger than eight finger widths by four finger widths (according to the Buddha’s hand again) is counted as robe cloth, i.e. clothing, unless determined for some other use, such as a towel or bed sheet. Thus the rule includes not only robes, but also underwear, shirts, sweaters, coats, socks, stocking caps, and Mahayana Buddhist pajamas. All of this technically is against Vinaya, yet almost all monks living in the West, including the “exemplary” ones, violate the rule without compunction, and do not confess it—which wouldn’t work anyway unless they relinquished all the extra clothes beforehand, which they do not want to do. The stocking caps, underwear, socks, etc. are also layman’s clothing, the wearing of which is in violation of another rule.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One important point to bear in mind, it seems to me, is that, according to the Pali texts, it was during the coldest time of year in the ancient Ganges Valley that the Buddha decided that three robes are enough for any monk. It is stated that at this time of year (in ancient times before the greenhouse effect kicked in) the temperature got down to around freezing. Also, allowed in the Vinaya texts is a kind of woolen felt blanket called a <i>santhata</i>, also called a <i>pāvāra </i>or <i>pāvuraṇa</i>, which may be worn as a cloak. I can assert from my own experience that three small, thick robes and a felt blanket are plenty for staying warm in environments that are freezing cold. Western monks dressing like Eskimos in temperatures above freezing is simply a case of bovine conformity, weakness, or both. At temperatures well below freezing, however, some “righteous” rule-breaking may be in order. But still it would probably count as breaking rules, and something to be confessed.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One way that ostensibly strict monks avoid the rule about extra clothing is by determining all extra clothes (and sometimes the regulation three robes also) as “accessory cloth,” i.e., cloth not used as clothing, but kept for other uses. But what the hell is that, if not lying? There are two ways in which a monk may determine cloth for this or that use: by speech and by physical action. It is stated that if a monk determines a robe to be accessory cloth by physical action, he just holds it and waves it around a little while mentally determining it as whatever. But what more obvious way of determining a robe physically than by just putting it on and wearing it! If one wears it as a robe, then it’s a robe. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…. Seriously. By refusing to acknowledge that they are in fact breaking rules, monks creep into the realm of dishonesty, or just following and believing corrupt nonsense, refusing to see the obvious.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This very same approach could be used to avoid all sorts of rules. Want to drink whiskey? Call it medicine, or “accessory liquid.” Want to use money? Call it “accessory paper.” Don’t want to admit that something is what it is? Call it something else! It wouldn’t count for diddle at a real trial at a real law court, as such reasoning is obviously bogus, but no matter. The situation reminds me of the old Burmese monastic saying, “If one is skillful in Vinaya one may kill a chicken.” Skillful in all the lame loopholes, that is. &nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; With regard to shoes, only certain kinds of sandals which leave the toes and heels open are allowable. Some strict-ish monks break this one in the temperate zone, but <i>most</i> of them break a different one: A monk is not allowed to wear shoes at all in public places, unless he is unwell. The danger of frostbite in subzero weather would presumably count as a valid reason for wearing shoes in town, but that usually is not a present danger. Again, bovine conformity and weakness prevail over Vinaya.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n7ieHwNR9r0/VplqlT3481I/AAAAAAAABjQ/RlTVdwMk9LQ/s1600/3%2Bmonks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n7ieHwNR9r0/VplqlT3481I/AAAAAAAABjQ/RlTVdwMk9LQ/s400/3%2Bmonks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>three ways of wearing robes</i></span></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>Food: </b>Non-strict monks may break all sorts of food rules, such as eating food that wasn’t properly offered (which includes a monk touching a huge table that he couldn’t lift while laypeople intending to offer the food on the table also touch it or group-lift it), eating food stored at the monastery, eating before dawn (possibly going with some chart that claims dawn has dawned when meanwhile the sky remains totally dark), eating food that they cooked themselves, and so on. But strict monks from Thai traditions notoriously eat cheese and dark chocolate in the afternoon…which on the face of it appears to be eating food at an unallowable time. Now, there is nothing inherently <i>immoral</i> in eating a piece of cheese in the afternoon. What is at least verging on immorality, however, is the cheesy justifications given for breaking the rule by eating it. Venerable Ajahn Ṭhanissaro, in his first book on monastic discipline, actually suggested that eating cheese in the afternoon is all right because cheese is not substantial food, but is actually a kind of butter, which is allowed as a medicine. Almost needless to say, this strikes me as blatant sophistry of a rather base sort. (I call it “backwards logic”: starting with the conclusion one wants to arrive at—that eating cheese in the afternoon is allowable—and then working backwards, cooking up the most plausible rationalization for it.) Of course cheese is substantial food; it is a meat substitute for vegetarians, right? It’s almost pure curd…although it can’t be <i>called</i> curd by the monks who want to eat it, because curd is considered to be substantial food in Vinaya and thus must not be eaten in the afternoon. So they can say what they like, but strict-ish monks who eat cheese in the afternoon are doing it because of 1) conformity and 2) weakness or else a simple desire to eat something. The only Burmese monks who would eat cheese in the afternoon would also eat rice and curry in the afternoon—and I admit there are quite a few of those.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dark chocolate is a slightly more subtle issue. One argument I have heard is that dark chocolate (with no milk, as milk is considered to be substantial food) is actually a kind of congealed juice, and juice is allowable in the afternoon. What to me sounds more plausible is that dark chocolate is not substantial food, and is medicinal in some way. Even if it is congealed juice, because it contains a significant amount of sugar in solid form it is to be treated as medicinal. (Yes, sugar is medicinal. It’s good for you.) So only monks who are <i>unwell</i> are allowed to eat it in the afternoon. Unfortunately, however—or fortunately, depending on how one chooses to look at it—the medieval commentarial tradition states that a monk who is tired or just hungry may consider himself to be unwell. So a monk can’t eat chocolate in the afternoon <i>as food</i>, but he can eat it because he’s <i>hungry</i>. My question here is, What’s the difference? How many people think things like, “I’m not hungry right now, but I want to eat this in order to replenish depleted nutrients,” eh? Not very many. And even if they do, they’d probably be more likely to eat spirulina than chocolate in such a case. It’s just more traditional corruption and sophistry which is very convenient for monks to follow. I’ve been told that at Wat Pah Nanachat the monks pass the afternoon treat tray around the sangha three times, with the monks sitting there eating the most expensive designer dark chocolate, “like householders who enjoy pleasures of the senses.”</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This condition that medicinal substances like sugar be eaten in the afternoon only if a monk is not feeling well applies not only to chocolate of course, but also to hard candy and other treats. But the main reasons why it is indulged in are conformity, weakness, and a borderline-dishonest desire for it not to be against the rules. Unless you sincerely believe that feeling hungry is the same as being unwell.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>Money: </b>There is one Vinaya rule concerning money that may be virtually impossible to follow correctly, with <i>very </i>few monks succeeding, especially in the West, and that is the rule prohibiting monks from handling the stuff. The thing is that a monk is not only prohibited from handling it, he is prohibited even from <i>consenting</i> to someone else keeping it or handling it on his behalf. The rule states that if someone expresses the intention of having some money kept in a fund for a monk’s benefit, if the monk doesn’t like the idea at all he may remain silent, thereby allowing it to happen, but if he likes the idea he is required to tell the person not to do it. If they stubbornly persist after he forbids them, then it is allowable. I have found that the most viable way to follow this rule is to live in some remote forest area of tropical Asia where people have little money, and to avoid monasteries; or at the very least to live in a deeply Buddhist culture where monks are supported, and to avoid having anything at all to do with money. But in the West especially it can be damn near impossible.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Some strict-ish monks don’t actually touch money, but they not only consent to it being kept for them, they also tell supporters or monastery attendants what to do with it. Endorsing a check is a similar case: although technically it may not be handling money, it is still endorsing an order to “pay to the order of,” which is still handling money indirectly. So that also is against the rules, and an extremely convenient one to break for abbots running a monastery especially. Much of this kind of rule-breaking is by monks conscientiously trying to follow rules but being unaware of all the technical complications in Vinaya. It requires careful study to avoid breaking rules, and most monks, even most conscientious ones, don’t do enough of that. And even if they do, conformity to the corrupt tradition is considered to be more important than conformity to the original rule, which behavior is totally in conformity with human nature.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <b>Some Miscellaneous Ones: </b>The bogus measure of the Buddha’s allegedly giant hand results in several other broken rules even among strict monks: for example, a monk’s bed may not be more than eight finger widths above the floor, or about 15cm. Also, quilted bedding, like sleeping bags, are against the rules. Some rules with regard to human females are very easily broken, especially in non-Buddhist countries, and are broken by many “exemplary” monks, such as traveling by arrangement with them or sitting alone with them (and whether or not a door is open is irrelevant, as a rule is still broken if no other male can see and hear them). Even using a full-length toothbrush is technically against Vinaya, as there is a rule that a monk may not use a tooth-cleaning stick longer than eight of his own finger widths (or shorter than four). I still have a habit of cutting off part of the handle of my toothbrush, which I have retained from my extremely strict days. So again, almost all monks, including strict ones, are breaking Vinaya rules all the time, generally without acknowledging them or confessing them. And, as I pointed out in a previous post on Vinaya, even the way they confess their offenses is usually against the rules.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Towards the beginning of Ajahn Ṭh.’s first book on Vinaya he called for reform…and then throughout the rest of the book he pretty much ignored genuine reform and endorsed an amazing quantity of lame loopholes from the medieval commentaries and Thai tradition, as well as cooking up a few new ones. That was disappointing, especially as my hard-ass strictness was going full blast in those days. Really, though, Western Theravada Buddhist monasticism seems to be blowing a golden opportunity for some really beneficial reform, since there is really no call for importing traditional Asian corruptions along with Dhamma/Vinaya. But not only have the old corruptions been maintained, new corruptions (like the arctic expedition gear unnecessarily worn by so many bhikkhus) are being added. And this in addition to the almost mandatory luxury of life in modern Western civilization.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If Western monks really do not want to follow ancient Vinaya rules, it seems to me that one obvious choice is to develop a new order of renunciants in the West, not officially bhikkhus but something else, with rules adjusted to fit a new world order. This would also allow for a genuinely equal order of nuns to be established—although that will be a topic for the next post.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Which is better: breaking a rule, acknowledging that one has broken it, and expiating the offense in accordance with Vinaya itself, or breaking it and refusing to admit that one has broken it at all, and furthermore justifying the act with absurdly flimsy rationalizations? Or in other words, which is better: to be straightforwardly lax, or to rig the game so that one can consider oneself to be strict? The first option may seem more shameless, but it is also more <i>honest, </i>with oneself as well as with others. But do as you like. That’s what I do too. (I laugh)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XKkKmHLFL4o/VplqJo_7UQI/AAAAAAAABjI/xkJmArTJ_I8/s1600/RSCN1383%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XKkKmHLFL4o/VplqJo_7UQI/AAAAAAAABjI/xkJmArTJ_I8/s400/RSCN1383%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-91165504757253400082016-01-16T12:54:00.000-08:002016-01-18T21:49:31.722-08:00Interview with a CreActivist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;A few months ago I was contacted by a person in the Netherlands who is a founder of a movement called CreActivism—evidently an inspired attempt to combine artistic and other forms of creativity with activism, an attempt at improving the world through inspired creativity. She had somehow encountered my blog, liked it, and asked if she could record an interview with me, and I said Sure.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Following is a slightly edited transcript of the interview, conducted late last November. Both of us are talking as the Spirit moves us; and I suppose that if we were to sit down and leisurely and thoughtfully write out our ideas, they would appear in a somewhat different, smoother form; but this way is good too. As Blake’s devil says, Improvement makes strait roads; but the crooked roads without Improvement are roads of Genius. Besides, I like showing how we as human beings really talk also, with all the bad grammar and uh’s and um’s, etc. Um…well, her excuse is that she’s Dutch. My excuse is that I acquired uh…a speech impediment due to being attacked by a radioactive mutant as a child. Anyway, here’s the interview. She’s EF. I am P. Eventually I will provide a link to the video, insh’allah.</div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><b></b>* &nbsp; &nbsp; * &nbsp; &nbsp; *</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">EF: …Yeah…<b></b></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Just make sure that it works. One time I gave a Dhamma talk to some people in Indonesia and they tried to record it, and they thought it was recording, but then it didn’t record.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: And what happened?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Um, well I gave the talk and the people that were there liked it, but uh, they couldn’t show it to anybody else because they forgot to record it. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) What do you think was the effect of that? Did they appreciate the moment more, or…?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Um, I’m not sure what the effect was actually. (laughs) But it was, eh…everybody survived, so it was no, no major disaster.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK, great! Um, yeah, so hey, you have a very nice backdrop, first of all.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, yeah. You can see the ugly one covered with the uh, the towel, right there. (turns camera to show ugly Buddha statue)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) That’s hilarious.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: About half of them are ugly, but that one’s…there’s like, good ugly and bad ugly, and that one is bad ugly. There’s some good ugly ones that I don’t have to cover.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK! So, tell me where are you, now?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I’m here! (laughs) But if, uh, you want, uh, a little bit more specific, then I’m in, uh, the suburbs of Fremont, California, at a little Burmese temple, called Kusalakari.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Cool, man. Um, yeah so, eh, I’ve got a few questions, um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: OK! But we should, uh, we should get to know each other a little better before we start the official interview.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK! Well it’s already started, just so you know. (laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh! All right.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, and you, you are American, you are from California?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: No, I’m originally from Alaska.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: That’s cool!&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But—yeah it’s very cool this time of year. And then, uh, when I was a baby there was a big earthquake, and uh, the, the town was pretty much destroyed, so then we moved to Washington state, which is in the Pacific Northwest. Like Seattle, up near there. And then I lived there, I went—I lived there until uh, I went to the monastery in California, and became a monk in California. And then I went to Burma and lived in Burma for about twenty years. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow! Can you tell me how that happened?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: (laughs) How all of it happened?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yes!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: It would be a long story!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yes!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Wow, all of it…it would take hours I think, to explain everything. But um… What, what in particular do you want to know?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: What, when was the moment that you said, (snaps fingers) “Yeah. I’m gonna become a monk.” &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Probably before I was born. (laughs) You know I’ve, I’ve always felt like it’s, like that was the plan for this life, was to do this. But um, for me as, as uh, a human being in this life, I was about seventeen, seventeen years old. And then I got the idea. I wanted to be some kind of monk, I wasn’t sure what kind. But, American culture I couldn’t take seriously; it’s too shallow; I wouldn’t really fit. My mind wouldn’t fit into it. So, from then on, from about the age of seventeen I decided I wanted to be some kind of monk, but I wasn’t sure what kind. For a while I was thinking of just getting a wool robe and a bowl and just, start walking. But I figured if I joined or entered some kind of order that already has an established system going, then it would be more stability for me—I’d have more self-, self-discipline, if I already have, you know, if I’m not just calling my own shots, but have like a tradition to enter. So, I eventually decided to be Theravada Buddhist. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Ummm, OK, so, from a young age you perhaps had a deeper understanding about life? Or were searching for that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I think I’ve always wanted to understand reality. And when I was little I just assumed adults automatically knew reality. So I just figured I didn’t understand it because I hadn’t grown up yet. But then when I was maybe thirteen I started having doubts, like maybe the adults don’t really know reality either; and by the time I was about sixteen it was pretty obvious, and so, I eh, pretty much rebelled, the way a lot of sixteen-year-olds will rebel. Just rebelled against the system and got into lots of trouble. And it was because of that that my father became very angry and sent me to, um, a kind of youth counsellor, like a social worker who specializes in talking with uh, messed up teenagers. And it turned out that he was very spiritually oriented, and he started giving me spiritual books to read which…I didn’t really understand them because it was so different from anything that I had ever been exposed to before, but I—just intuitively I felt that, this is better than, like materialism, you know, just playing the game, you know the mainstream, and just being…you know, chasing money, that kind of thing, or else, is also better than just partying all of the time and getting into trouble. You know, just like a roller coaster. So, that was when I was about seventeen. From then on I had this idea, That’s, that’s really something that I can take seriously; I can respect that. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: And what was your image of Buddhism then?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: My image of Buddhism then… It was…I saw it as a philosophy that described reality, or at least came as close to describing reality as a philosophy can come.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Mm-hmm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And with regard to Theravada I was naive, and I thought that was the original Buddhism, that was, went all the way back to what the Buddha taught, and that they were afraid to change anything. But then gradually after I became a monk I started realizing that, you know, any form of Buddhism or any system that has existed for 2500 years is going to be evolving and changing over time. So, it’s not exactly the same as what the Buddha originally taught, but it probably comes closer than most, or maybe comes the closest of any.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: What image did you have of Buddhist monks? Because you had this idea already when you were sixteen or seventeen that, that, about monks…perhaps influenced by the media—what image did you have?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well the media had almost nothing to say about monks. I mean, in America almost the only monks you would ever see on television would be uh, Kwai Chang Cain on the old TV show “Kung Fu.” I don’t know if you’ve ever seen that…? David Carradine?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: What’s his name?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Uh, David Carradine was the star of it. It’s a old TV show called “Kung Fu.” You can see it on YouTube. It’s about a Shao Lin monk…who…he uh…he kills the Emperor’s nephew, and so he runs away to America. He goes to California during the 1800’s with cowboys. So you’ve got this Buddhist monk walking around with, like cowboys and, and um, you know they’re always trying to kill him but he knows martial arts, and so he never gets killed. And he’s wise, so I was…that was like the first Buddhist monk I ever saw, was on this TV show.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: So do you know kung fu?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: No, no, that’s a different kind of Buddhism.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) I’m just playing. Um….</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But aside from that it was almost nothing in the media. And so I learned mainly about monks from reading a book called the Sutta Nipāta, which is a, ancient Pali text. And in that, the monks were like tough guys; they weren’t, they didn’t fight or anything, but they just wandered around homeless, and they slept under trees, out in the forest, and they were ascetics. You know, they were, they were these, uh, they were like uh, spiritual Rambo. You know, and I liked that idea, ‘cause I had like, a tough guy father, you know, he taught me to be tough, all this kind of thing, so…that was one thing that I liked, is that, eh, they were…they were not only wise, but they were strong. So I liked that also.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: So it was also a certain idea about manhood.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: To some degree, yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Was that, this idea of manhood, something you struggled with?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm, not especially.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: No. It was just kind of an ideal.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Or it’s like, um, there’s a book called, uh, <i>The Varieties of Religious Experience</i> by William James—it’s a classic—talking about uh, you know the different ways that people feel religious experience or spirituality, that kind of thing. And he talks about how asceticism, like being a Buddhist monk, is one of the two ways of having like a masculine ideal. The other way is like being a soldier or a fighter, and I never really was into that. I didn’t want to kill anybody. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Oh, right.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So I never wanted to kill anybody, I didn’t want to shoot anybody, anything like that. So in a way being an ascetic monk was like a…a different approach to, to the same ideal of, you know freedom, and strength, and this kind of thing.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Interesting. OK, um, I can imagine, however, uh, in your development in becoming a monk, because how you…it’s something that, ah, how you…eh, a purity, or a…yeah, it, it has several steps I’m guessing. Um, but perhaps it’s good to start from, uh, from when you were starting to get in touch with spirituality, what steps you took towards becoming a monk, if you could just explain that.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Um, at first for a long time I just read lots of books. Because there were no monasteries—I had no idea where there was any monasteries, anything like that, I’d never seen a real monk until I was…I think when I was about nineteen years old I saw one in Canada, standing on a street corner in Vancouver. That was the first Buddhist monk I ever saw. And um, so first it was just reading books and studying, not just Buddhism but just religions. You know, reading any kind of scriptures, you know, Hindu scriptures, the Bible, um… Jain scriptures, anything, just anything I could really get my hands on that looked interesting, I would start studying it. And I liked Buddhism the best—</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Why?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Um, partly because there was the least amount of story that you have to believe. Most religions, you have to believe a story. You know like uh, in Christianity there’s, you know, Jesus was born for our sins and, and um, so there’s this story of Jesus that you have to believe to be true. But in Buddhism there’s almost no story at all. So, you don’t have to have as much belief in what you are told. That um, you can discover most of it, whether it’s true or not, just by practicing it. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So I liked that part. And it’s philosophical, and for most of my life I’ve been a very head-oriented person. You know, there’s like two approaches, there’s the head and the heart. And men, usually, are more head than heart. I think maybe women are more the other way round. And for a head-oriented person Buddhism is an excellent approach. Because it’s a very head-oriented system, especially Theravada, which is, you know it’s, it’s a system developed by men that just avoided women mostly. (laughs) So there’s almost no female influence at all. And so, um, it was compatible with me at the time. Although now I’ve realized, after coming back to America, that um, that there is female wisdom that’s a whole different approach. You know, it’s like a whole different way of going about it, and so I’m interested in that, and would like to practice that a little more.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. (laughs) Interesting. Um, yeah, OK, so there’s two topics that I find interesting in what you just said. One is uh, the head, and um, and how Theravada is something, a method that allows you to deal with that; and the second one is gender. Um, so let’s start with the first one first: Can you explain a bit about what…first of all, the fundamentals of Buddhism for people who don’t understand Buddhism.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: All right. Well, technically you can say that there are two ways of going about it. There’s the head way and the heart way. And in Buddhism the head way is usually more emphasized. And in the way of the head, you’re trying to eliminate delusion, to eliminate ignorance; that’s how you reach Nibbāna, or that’s how you uh, you know, you become enlightened. You eliminate all delusion. Whereas with the heart way it’s more a matter of eliminating suffering, or <i>dukkha</i> as it’s called in Pali. So you can…if you’re trying to eliminate suffering that’s more of a heart-oriented approach, and if you’re trying to eliminate delusion and ignorance that’s more of the head approach. And in Buddhism it’s really geared more towards the head, although there’s some heart involved also, like compassion and mettā, this kind of thing. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK, um, and then, yeah, what is Theravada Buddhism?&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Theravada is um, it’s mainly an ancient Indian approach. It’s based on ancient India. And, it comes the closest to the, the oldest form of Buddhism, that’s still in existence. So, it’s eh…like in Zen, it’s mainly developed in China, so it’s more geared towards medieval China. That’s, that’s when the system got developed. And um, so Theravada, it’s based on an ancient Indian tradition where the monks were homeless wanderers mostly. And uh, the scriptures are written or composed in the Pali language, which is similar to Sanskrit, it’s an ancient Indian language. And that’s one reason why I liked it, is it seemed it came closer to the Buddha than other systems. And for a head-oriented person that’s important.&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. And is meditation also a part of…?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh yes, definitely.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. And which types of meditation?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: There are two main types. Like uh, usually they are divided up into <i>samatha </i>and <i>vipassanā.</i></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: <i>Samādhi</i>?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: <i>Samatha</i>; it’s based on <i>samādhi. </i>And so…yeah…<i>samatha</i>, S-A-M-A-T-H-A. That’s uh, literally it means like “tranquility.” It’s uh anyth— It’s a system that makes you more peaceful, it quiets the mind, makes it clear, simplifies it. And um, so that’s one method. The other method, that’s more well known in the West is what’s usually called “vipassana,” although it’s more based on mindfulness, or <i>satipaṭṭhāna. </i>So that’s the two main, two main approaches to meditation in Buddhism, are <i>samatha </i>and <i>vipassanā</i>, and it’s best to do both, if you’re able to.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So they don’t really rule each other out; you can do both at the same time. Anything that makes your mind more quiet and more simple and more clear is, is like <i>samatha</i>; and anything that brings you more into the present moment, and accepting whatever is happening in the present moment, is more mindfulness. And if you do one of them perfectly you’re doing the other one perfectly because they come together.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. Wonderful. Um, of course I have a understanding about that, as well, as a Vipassana meditator; um, but can you explain a bit more for viewers, people who might watch this, um, what the effects of meditation can be? What the…the struggles but also the benefits of this type of meditation.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: The only real struggle is uh, the main struggle is just teaching yourself not to think. That, uh, it’s a tool, thinking is a tool. And if you don’t need to be thinking, you don’t have to think. But most people are stuck in their thinking and their feeling. They say “That’s me.” You know, they think that if I stop thinking I’ll just cease to exist; and so in some people, if their meditation starts to get good and their mind becomes more and more quiet, they start to get frightened, because they think they’re going to disappear or die. But what you learn is that the thinking isn’t you. If you can meditate to the point where your mind is completely silent, you see that not only do you not disappear, but you’re even <i>more </i>there than when you were thinking. It’s more—you’re closer to reality; you’re closer to what you really are, if your mind is clear and silent, and you’re just wide awake, with your mind as like glass, or a mirror, or something. Then you’re actually closer to what you really are, closer to reality, than if you’re just thinking and uh, believing the thoughts, believing that that’s you.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So like in Christianity it’s like you’re experiencing your soul and not just, not just your thoughts and your feelings.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Would you not argue that the soul is also a form of attachment?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well, in Buddhism, technically they say there really isn’t a soul. So that’s like one of the fundamental teachings of Buddhism, that’s possibly one of the teachings that uh, is different from any other religion, is that, um… or it comes closer to a kind of Hinduism where, um, you can say that everybody has the same soul. You know, like, uh, using, uh, theological terms you say God is everywhere, the spirit of God fills everything. So the spirit of God that’s in here (points to his chest), I can call my soul. But it’s all the same spirit of God. So that’s, that’s sort of like what the Hindus teach; although the Buddhists, they just, um…there’s this paradox in that anything that is infinite, you can’t really say that it does exist or that it doesn’t exist because it’s, it goes beyond the, the boundary of “is” and “isn’t.” So anything that’s formless and infinite, you know, there’s no boundaries, it’s, you know, zero and infinity become…you can’t tell them apart. And so in that sense you can say that uh, the soul or the spirit of God or whatever it is, it—you can’t really say that it does exist or that it doesn’t exist, because it’s just completely off the scale of “is” and “isn’t,” it’s not plus or minus, it’s…you can’t really talk about it. So in Buddhism it’s more a matter of just saying—you have to say one or the other in order to talk; so in Buddhism they just say “isn’t,” and, you know, it’s all emptiness, but where like the Hindus are saying that it “is,” and then they call it God, or Atman. But really it’s just two ways of trying to say what you can’t really say anyway.&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Very well said. Sadhu. (laughs) Um…yeah, that’s a very beautiful, uh, idea, um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I got the idea from Hegel, unfortunately.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Sorry?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I got the idea from Hegel! Like the German philosopher.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Hegel! OK!&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm. Yeah, you said that you, you’d read some Schopenhauer, in one of your videos.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) No! A little bit. He’s quite hilarious, and depressing. (laughs again)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, yeah, he’s…he’d say we’d all be best off if we just all committed suicide, I’m pretty sure.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) Yeah! But I just wanted to go back to this idea of emptiness, because a lot of my friends, um, some of my friends, um, intellectuals particularly, who have done Vipassana—I’ve got quite a few Vipassana friends—and Vipassana by the way, for people who see this, it’s Insight Meditation—uh, so, like scanning your body…&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Ah, so that’s Goenka.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Huh? Like Goenka-ji, yeah. I don’t know if we have the same understanding, but…um, yeah, so I, I follow, uh, yeah, the school of Dhamma, or whatever, or I don’t like to separate or label myself from other people who strive to end suffering. Um, but um, yeah, this form that I have done, it’s a ten-day meditation retreat, in silence, um, with a very strict um, regime, or very strict, um, order of the day: you wake up at 4:30, you meditate for two hours, then you have a breakfast, then you do another two hours, then you have lunch, a warm lunch, and then another two hours, and then you have uh, some fruits, and then two hours (laughs), and then you sleep. So basically all you can do is eat, sleep, or meditate. And um, yeah I’ve—&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And watch the video every now and then.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Um, yeah, I did it twice, I did the course twice; so the first time was horrible! (laughs) Uh, I really hated it. Um, and I cried a lot. Um, and then, uh, a lot of stuff came up, and then I had to deal with that with therapy and things like that. Um, and then the second time I realized this—so the first time I didn’t fully get it, but the second time I think I realized…I’m not sure if it’s the Second Noble Truth, but that, basically, I made my own life hell. (laughs) Through attachment to my own ego and perfectionism.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm. We create our own reality.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Um, and once I let that go I discovered a freedom in myself to…yeah…love and to create. And of course it oscillates, but um, it’s something I practice every day…um…but yeah, that was a really beautiful gift. Uh, but then I’ve got some intellectual friends, um, who, who are kind of…who I sense are kind of—no, this is what they say: They say that if Shakespeare didn’t have an ego—an ego for me is an attachment to an idea of who you want to be or who you think you should be, so ego is attachment, essentially—um, and some of my intellectual friends, they say, I feel, uh, they say, “Oh, if Shakespeare didn’t have an ego, he would have never created great things.” Um, and I question that, because I have a feeling that they’re afraid of this idea of emptiness in Buddhism.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, well if, if Shakespeare never went <i>beyond</i> his ego he never would have created anything.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Because true creation comes from silence. I mean it’s like, true creation is, if you really create something really creative, really important, you don’t know what it’s going to be, it’s like you have to make your mind peaceful, and then it comes out of the, out of the, the silence. Because if you’re just thinking about it, you’re using your ego, you’re just recycling thoughts that you already have, you know, it’s just the computer program, you know it’s, it’s only dealing with what is old. Because it’s only dealing with what’s stored in the computer; you’re not creating anything new, you’re just maybe rearranging thing—, rearranging ideas, but even the way you do it is going to be according to old methods, it’s not anything really creative. So if you want to create something, even if you’re a scientist, even if you’re an intellectual, you have to get to this “I don’t know” where your mind is just quiet, and then the idea comes up, through intuition.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ClLxiMr0Qsc/VpLGQD2wnOI/AAAAAAAABic/kAs5oqNQ1Jo/s1600/Interview%2B2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ClLxiMr0Qsc/VpLGQD2wnOI/AAAAAAAABic/kAs5oqNQ1Jo/s400/Interview%2B2.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. If I would have to compare that to things that I have done, uh, in CreActivism for example, every moment that I had to do something great (snaps fingers), eh “great,” eh, whatever you want to call it, um, I had to fully <i>submit</i> myself, in a totally vulnerable place, that I was open to any kind of reaction. Um, so, that’s why on the sixteenth of December 2014 I did a performance, and I really let myself go in the moment. And I had people that, that I really care about, and that I care about how, what they think of me, or, um, I care about them, in general, um, and uh, that was, I felt so powerful, um, with my emotions and, and um, I felt so connected with them as well.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF:&nbsp;<span class="s1"> </span>Um, so, we, we talked about the Theravada thing, um, so, that’s um, I think a stream in Buddhism that also has its, maybe cultural ideas, or um, set of rules…? Can you explain a bit more about that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yes. Um, well, the ideas are ancient Indian ideas. So like I said earlier, it’s based on ancient Indian culture, ancient Indian cultural conditioning. And um, with regard to rules there’s lots and lots of rules, especially for monks. Like for laypeople there are five precepts. I assume you’re, you’re familiar with those…?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Eh, yeah. Don’t kill, Don’t…yeah yeah. Can you name them?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah. It’s no killing; no stealing; no sensual misconduct, which mainly means no adultery, but it can mean other things also; no lying or wrong speech; and then finally, no ale, wine, or intoxicants which cause cloudedness of mind. Anything that makes you stupid, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t do it. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK!&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: (laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Nice. (also laughs)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah. So that’s like the five precepts for laypeople. But for monks there are, there are thousands.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: For monks there are thousands.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, thousands of rules.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Damn! That makes it a little harder.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: It does especially at first. After you’ve done it for years, then it’s just like a habit, you don’t even think about it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. So, a few dilemmas. I want to discuss some few daily dilemmas…&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: OK.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: …with you. My housemate makes really good cookies sometimes. And sometimes at night I get hungry (laughs) and then…but I know she’s very, um…very open, or she’s always very sharing. Uh, like “Oh, you want this?” or “You want that?” and I do that too for her, so it’s a nice, uh, “karma loop,” I guess…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: …and sometimes I take the cookie. Is that stealing and is that bad?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: It depends on your intention. Like, in Buddhism all, all right and wrong depends upon your intention. That’s what karma is, is intention. So, if you think that she wouldn’t mind, and you take it, then that’s not stealing.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. That’s good to know. OK, another one…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So even a monk, even a monk can do that.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: He can take, he can—well, he can’t take the cookie, but he can, if…he can take something if he thinks that the other person wouldn’t mind; or, if he’s planning to give it back.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: You know, he’s just going to borrow it. Then that’s not stealing either.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Although borrowing a cookie is gross. You don’t want to give it back after you eat it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Because I find that interesting because, ummm, yeah, I don’t believe in a sense of ownership, on a profound level. I don’t believe I own this laptop I’m speaking with, I don’t believe that I own this house, I don’t believe, um…but you know, on a practical level it’s handy to say OK, these are my glasses, I, I need to use them so I can function.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Um, so… (laughs) how does the idea of not stealing fit into that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Not stealing….Well it’s, uh, it’s mainly a, an action based on greed, and it’s causing suffering to others because <i>they</i> have a sense of ownership.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK, so if we were all happy Buddhists we would actually only be borrowing.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well if we were all arahants, if we were all enlightened, then there wouldn’t be any personal property at all. You couldn’t steal anything because nobody would, would think “This is mine.”&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah! That would be awesome.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So we’d all be, we’d all be like communist anarchists.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) Communist capitalists, maybe.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: No, there, there’d be no capitalism if, if there was no greed, and there’s no “mine.” No I, me, or mine and there’s no capitalism.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Interesting…. OK, so there’s many precepts, um, in the Theravada…monks, so I, I want to stay maybe still on the micro/meso, and then later we’re going to the macro. Of what it means for the world, and things that have, have been happening in the world.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Ummm…so within this Theravada tradition, so there was a certain submission you had to go through, um, because I was watching some of your videos on the alms…that you received? And for me this is something, um, yeah—as a person that’s been, eh, both conditioned in the Middle East and the West, um, I, I…I find it tricky to, um, to, yeah, to…accept maybe? Or, I accept it, but, I find it difficult to understand, um…&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: …the alms-giving part…uh, yeah, that you…yeah, on the one hand I find it quite interesting that you submit yourself to others, that you, to the moment, to, um…that they give you food. But on the other hand I’m also like, Oh, why don’t you just make it yourself, (laughs) or something. Um, can you expand on that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well that’s one of…actually there’s a lot of rules with regard to food. Like a monk is not allowed to cook his own food. He’s not allowed to eat any food that isn’t given to him. He’s not allowed to ask for it, unless he’s sick. And so, it’s based on ancient Indian culture, where, um, the ascetics lived in the forest and they owned nothing, or almost nothing. And then they would just take their bowl and walk into the village, and anyone that wanted to put food in would put food in. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be, although it doesn’t work for me that way for me in Burma very well, because I can’t just walk through the village because there are so many people that want to give me food that they line up at the entrance.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow. Why is that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And—Um, it’s, it’s very much a part of Buddhist culture, that um, um…for one thing, they think that they are getting good karma. You know, they’re getting merit by offering food to a monk. But also, the way the system is set up, is that, um, most people aren’t ready to really strive for Nibbāna in this life. You know, like most Asian or Burmese Buddhists, most villagers, they’re more interested in, in just getting a better life next time. You know, they want to be…they want to go to heaven, or they want to be rich and pretty, or, or something like this the next time. And so, um, they, they support monks who really are trying, or who they <i>think</i>, at least, really are trying for Nibbāna. You know, so they’re…even though they’re not ready to do it, they’re helping the others that are trying to do it. You know, it’s sort of like mountain climbers: They’ve got the base camp, and then most of the people stay there, and then they send a few up, up to the top of the mountain; whereas—but you need the base camp or else nobody’s going to make it to the top of the mountain.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So to some degree, um, in Theravada Buddhism, it’s like the laypeople, the villagers, the people that are feeding the monks and giving them what they need, they’re like the base camp. And they’re, they’re helping <i>someone</i> to get to Nibbāna even though they’re not ready for it. That’s another way of looking at it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: That’s uh—Yeah, that’s also quite beautiful in a way, um……and, and I, I also, I saw on the video that they also bow down towards you…um…yeah, which uh, has maybe some devotional, eh, connotation for me…or how do you interpret that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well, um, in Burma especially the people have very much respect for monks. Even the word for “human being” is not used for monks. A monk is not considered to be human. (laughs) So it’s…ah you know, when I was sixteen I never would have thought that I’d be, you know, having people bowing down, that sort of thing, but, it happened.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: How does that make you feel, when they do?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I’m, I’m pretty much used to it now. You know, it’s happened for a long time. At first I would get embarrassed, because, you know in America you don’t bow down to anybody, you don’t bow down to the president, you don’t bow down to the Christian minister, you don’t bow down to anybody, you know? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Mm-hmm.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So—and like, when <i>I</i> would bow down I felt very embarrassed, ‘cause I just wasn’t used to it. You know, bowing down to somebody, it was like the way I would feel when I would dance without being drunk yet. You know, just very, kind of uh, self-conscious.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) It’s funny, I experienced that yesterday, I went out, and I don’t drink or do drugs or anything, any more, um, eh, and…yeah, Dutch people, yeah, drinking culture is quite um, normal here, and um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, Dutch people, they kind of dance like this (comically raises and lowers one hand, laughs), or, like, or they look around awkwardly like, “What am I doing here? I’m so self-conscious!” (laughs again) You know? In a negative way.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: And um, you know I’m just dancing like “RAAAHHH!” like that! “Ba-pa-pa-pa-paahh!” And everybody thinks I’m high, you know? Everybody thinks I’m on drugs, but I’m not. And uh…yeah…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: High on life.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, high on life. (laughs) Exactly. But back to this alms giving. So, there’s a cultural aspect to it…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Definitely.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Ummm…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Which is one reason why it doesn’t work in America very well.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yes! Yeah, I can understand why, and I, uh, I know how commodified everything is over there, so uh, I can imagine, uh, that wouldn’t work very well. Um…but what I still struggle with, maybe this is even more, is uh, that I can imagine that you have, you have some kind of dissolution of your ego; you experience this, um…then comes room for love and, you know, mettā, so, unattached love, um, yeah…don’t you feel when you have, have that feeling that you want to give, or that you want to do for others, or help…how does, how do, uh…how does Theravada think about this? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Traditionally…a monk is helping the world by raising his consciousness. You know, it’s sort of like all consciousness is connected, so if one person becomes wiser it kind of uplifts everybody, you know, it changes the center of gravity…or like in Christianity when it talks about, you know, God saving the world for the sake of, you know, ten good people. Something like that, you know? And um, one of my favorite Christians is Saint John of the Cross—I don’t know if you’re familiar with uh, like Catholics—um, he said that, you, you can have two people: one person is practicing meditation alone, like deep meditation, like maybe jhāna; and the other person is like, say, a Peace Corps worker and they’re doing everything they can to help people. You know they’re, you know, helping sick people and giving food to hungry people and, and just doing as much help as they can. And he says that the one that’s helping the world the most is the first person.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Because really, it’s, it’s like the, the level of consciousness determines the amount of suffering in the world. So the second person is helping the symptoms, but not really curing the, the disease. You know, it’s like the disease is, is desire. Or craving, that sort of thing. And so if you’re not curing that, then in a way you’re, you’re treating the symptoms without really curing the disease.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Although it doesn’t work very well if a person has a materialistic point of view, because if you have a materialistic point of view, then everyone’s separate. But if you realize that everybody’s not separate, that it’s all one big consciousness, then, then by one person becoming wiser you can see that it, more easily that it helps everybody.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: So that uh, that alone meditator automatically radiates a certain consciousness and influences others, positively.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah that’s, that’s the idea. And it’s—</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: But for the moment we do need people who do go into the Peace Corps.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm. Sure.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: And also meditate, because that can also be traumatizing…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm-hmm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: …to um…yeah, I can imagine…or a doctor, you know?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah I can imagine that uh……</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Although, in, in Buddhism and also in Hinduism, in ancient India in general, there’s the idea that this whole world is just a dream anyway.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: That it’s not even, it’s not even the highest reality. It’s not really real. It’s <i>kind of</i> real, it’s sort of real, but it’s like a dream. And so, um, in a way it’s like trying to wake up is the best thing you can do. ‘Cause like, trying to help other people in a dream, you know, it just keeps the dream going, rather than, than helping people to wake up out of the dream.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wonderful.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But if you can do it wisely, if you can do it with consciousness, then you can help them <i>and</i> help them to wake up at the same time, which is the best. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. Very nice. Um, yeah, “beyond the measurable measure,” I would say. Um because, yeah, I—I as an activist, that in every context you have a measure of what’s good enough—in your high school, in your university, in your business, in your home, of what’s good enough. And um, an activist becomes aware of eh, his or her context, and then starts to ask questions: “Hey, why is this like this?” He uses his empirical abilities to observe what is going on: “Oh, where is suffering, where is the truth?” and then he or she is able to rise above that in a way that is selfless. And he does that for the benefit of others. You know, like a whistleblower like Edward Snowden for example: he went beyond the measurable measure, because he realized, he was very aware, that what he did, uh, would have…wouldn’t benefit him ver— in a lot of ways. He had to leave the country. He had to leave his wife…he had to leave—or his girlfriend, or, um… But he did it anyway because he felt people should know about this. Um, so that’s the first interpretation of “beyond the measurable measure”; and the second one is enlightenment, that you, um, yeah, go towards a certain transcendental um, thing, and there are no words for it, uh, I think.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm. Reality can’t be measured.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Exactly. So, yeah, it’s a useless thing to talk about. Um… (laughs) I think the, the second topic that you were interested in talking about was uh, gender, as well. Um, and I find this very interesting because this is a topic I’m dealing with, very profoundly, as well. Um, so you were mentioning how in Theravada culture, Buddhism, uh, there’s a lack of female wisdom. Can you expand on this?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well, uh, as I said it’s, uh, it’s largely a male-oriented system. And um, that’s one of the reasons why it’s popular in the West, is because people in the West have so much head involved.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Have what? (rough Skype connection)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: You know, so much thinking. Head. So much thinking. You know it’s uh, very thought-oriented, rather than feeling-oriented. And uh, it’s really since coming to America, or coming to the West, that um, the female influence has really started becoming strong in it, with regard to more emphasis on mettā, more emphasis on, on helping, that sort of thing. But uh, traditionally it’s uh…women mainly are the supporters; you know, like if you’ve noticed in the videos, it’s almost all women that are offering food.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: That’s beautiful, yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And it’s been that way since, since ancient times. It’s always been that way.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Interesting.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But uh, in order to have a predominantly feminine spiritual system…I don’t know if there even is one really. Unless it’s some small, obscure one in New Age or something like that. So it would be interesting to see what would happen…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: What, what do you think this female wisdom is? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Um, I think it’s largely compassion.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: What is compassion?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Compassion……feeling others’ suffering, realizing that we’re all connected, and realizing that uh, one way of saving yourself is to save the world. Although I’m not the, the highest authority on the female point of view.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: (also laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But it’s definitely more, eh, it’s more of, um, gentleness- and compassion-oriented, more love-oriented. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: It’s like, um…there’s two ways of reaching infinity: One is to just contract downwards into nothing, which is the same as infinity; and one is to expand outwards into infinity. You know it’s—and, the, the ancient Indian way is more inwards. You just become less and less and less until you’re nothing. You just disappear. Whereas, if you expand outwards outwards outwards, that also is just…you eventually disappear when you stop having boundaries. So I think the, the heart-oriented way is more outwards, and the head-oriented way is more inwards. So the head-oriented way you can save yourself, but you save others only indirectly, you’re not…I mean it’s, it’s sort of you’re, you’re uplifting the consciousness around you; but, but still it’s, uh, it’s more isolated. The person, the individual…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Can you repeat the last thing you said again?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: It’s more isolated. You’re more alone.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Interesting. So in a way, you’re kind of striving to go next level, because I would say love is the next level.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well, if love is perfect, then that—then you’re it, you’re enlightened. Only an enlightened being can have perfect love.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Great! Awesome. Um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: You know, like in the Bible it says God is love.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow. That’s beautiful.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So it’s like…yeah it’s like um, in order to have perfect love you have to have no separation; you have to have no walls; you know, like Pink Floyd’s wall. I don’t if you’re familiar with Pink Floyd.</div><div class="p1"><br />EF: (shakes her head)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br />P: Oh! There was this, this album in like 1980, <i>The Wall</i>, which is, the story is, everybody’s building this wall around themselves, everyone’s surrounded by this wall, they’re closed off and alone, because their ego is this brick wall that completely surrounds them. And some people, they, they feel vulnerable, they’re afraid, unless they have the wall. But that same wall that, that supposedly protects them, is completely closing them off from everybody and preventing them from loving anybody.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Because you have to be vulnerable with, with…you know, if you’re going to love another person you have to have an open door, there has to be some connection between you; and in order to love absolutely <i>everybody</i> there’s…you can have no wall. It’s just empty. There’s no, no walls and you know, so there’s no “you” anymore.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Because there’s no boundaries.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: I would like to add to that: everything you hate about yourself, you hate about others.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah….So you can’t love others unless you love yourself.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Exactly! (both laugh) Put that on a big poster! (laughs again) It’s so true, but…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, that’s the problem in…that’s a problem in the West I think, at least in America, where they have this ideal that you have to be successful. You know, there’s this ideal about how you’re supposed to be, and then most people, they can’t do that. And so then they, they like, hate themselves, or they, you know, they feel sorry and guilt, and…because they’re not living up to a stupid ideal anyway.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Like <i>Death of a Salesman.</i></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm, yeah. He should have been a carpenter.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) Yeah, yeah. OK. So, we talked about love, about feminine wisdom, um….It’s interesting, because I’ve experienced that as well, recently in my personal life, um, that, uh, yeah, I’ve broken down many walls that I’ve had, but other people are not aware enough, or um…maybe that’s my own judgement, as well, could be, but um…that they also have issues, but that they’re not fully conscious of them yet.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Um…and uh, I find it difficult sometimes because I know, I’ve experienced a way for me to relieve my suffering, um…and I would like to share that with others, um…but on the other hand, um, sometimes I could be too, uh…forceful, like “Hey, meditate, man!” (laughs) You know. Like, “Just do it!”&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm. Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: But, people have certain ideas about spirituality, especially in the Netherlands, that it’s “floaty,” and that it’s, um, kind of “hippie-ish” or, um, irrational.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But pure rationality is a robot.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: (laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. (laughs too) That’s a good one. Um, but, yeah, perhaps what I learned recently is that instead of saying, “Oh, you should do this,” or “Oh you should do that,” is just to be really strong in yourself, and to inspire others with, with what you, with what you do and what you are. Um……</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, I’ve found the best way to teach others is just to uh, be an example.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. That’s very nice. Hey—so let’s, let’s uh, go out into the world; of course um, Buddhism is very much about self-awareness, uh, but let’s say, What’s the state of the self-awareness of the world? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: The self-awareness of the world! That’s a tough one. I think it’s, uh, becoming less stable, there’s becoming more variation now, with more people being wise, and also more people being foolish. I think things are becoming less stable. So things are starting to shake up and get stirred up.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: What do you think the effects of that will be?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Change. Probably. But whether it will be good change or bad change I don’t know yet.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) I could almost predict your answer. That’s very nice. (laughs again) But um…yeah, change. So a bit like the Obama poster, of his first election: Change.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Is that what it said?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yes. (laughs) I will send you it later. Um, change…and that of course connotated that it would be <i>good. </i>Um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: And that’s I think a bit uh…perhaps, when we are not equanimous and balanced, and we start to use these words with moral connotations, moralistic or positive or negative connotations, it becomes more difficult to look at the reality as it is. What do you think about that? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well if you look at reality as it is it’s neither good nor bad. It’s just the way it is. But really, like in Buddhism, like I’ve already said, it’s, what’s most important is the uh, the intention, or the mental state. So the outward, the outward state is not nearly as important as the inward state. For example, I lived in Burma for twenty years, like among villagers who have very little—they’re very poor by Western standards. But actually they’re happier than, than Americans are. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Beautiful.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: They have less suffering. You know, they’re smiling, they’re, for the most part, they’re happy people, even though they, they make maybe three dollars per day and, and live in a one-room shack with grandma and grandpa and the babies and everything, and no electricity, no running water. You know, the girl still carries the, the clay pot of water on her head, you know, for the, for the hut, every day and…. And they’re happy, you know? They live the way people have lived for thousands of years. It’s natural. And they have few desires; and that’s…in Buddhism that’s the cause of all suffering, is, is desire. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Desire and aversion.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, well, aversion is just the desire to be away from something; it’s still a kind of desire.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, very good.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So that’s, that’s really the uh, the, the secret of, of happiness—you know from, at least from the Buddhist point of view, is just uh, you know, if you don’t want anything you don’t have any suffering. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And whether you want anything is, is really a matter of attitude; it’s not a matter of whether you have enough money or whatever. It’s possible to be happy with zero money.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. So how does that relate, then, to—can you tell some experiences that you had in the United States, uh, which perhaps contradict this, or give you another view on this?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, in the United States there are, there are good people that are generous people, although there still is a lot more suffering in America than in Burma, despite what you see on the news and all that…. And it’s partly because people have desire—they’re taught by the culture to have desire. You know, all the commercials, every commercial you see is telling you to desire something. Which means, Be happy: You won’t be happy unless you buy this. And so it’s like propaganda; people just have it fed into their minds almost all the time, coming from all directions, that they should have desire, which just makes them more unhappy. And then also, in the West, partly because people are so much in their head, they’re all closed off from everybody else, which also helps to…it decreases love, increases unhappiness. ‘Cause the more closed off you are the less you can love anybody, and love is happiness. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: So how does, how do you position yourself in this context? How can you live, as a monk?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: How can I live as a monk?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, in this context.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Um…in the American context I’m almost not in the American context at all, because almost everyone who supports me here is Burmese.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I see Americans maybe once a week. I speak more Burmese here than, than English.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Funny…amazing.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, there’s a lot of Burmese people and they support the monks, and Americans usually don’t. So it’s…um, actually, I might have more exposure to Burmese culture here in California than when I’m in Burma.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: ‘Cause when I’m in Burma I can just go off alone into a forest where there’s no culture.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Wow. OK, so…so they give you food, and uh, accommodation.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yes.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. That’s very nice.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And they’re happy to do it, they’re very eager to do it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Wow.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Like they give too much sometimes.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) OK. Yeah. And, and this is the…what room are you in, in the kind of meditation room?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, it’s the congregation hall. Technically it’s called the <i>sīma</i>. Which is, all the monks—if the monks are going to do some kind of uh, formal act of the Sangha, they all have to meet together here and do it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK…do you do something like that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mmm…mostly, Burmese monks don’t follow the rules very much. (laughs) So, so usually they don’t do it. If I do it I just do it by myself here.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK. (laughs) Nice, nice. Cool. OK. Um…I think we covered a lot of topics….And um…yeah….the commodification of Buddhism…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: …itself. Uh, so, you might have…have you noticed, mm, that people are more busy with mindfulness, or yoga, or certain Eastern practices of spirituality? What are your thoughts on that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well…there is uh, a lot of mindfulness meditation, you know, a lot of it is “McMindfulness” where it’s, it’s being done for commercial purposes, or capitalistic purposes. You know, like the, the employees of Google or other, other, other corporat— other big corporations, Apple, you know, they, they cause their employees to practice mindfulness meditation; but it’s mainly for capitalistic reasons: It makes them work harder, and also it causes them to get sick less, so that they have less, uh, money loss through health insurance, and uh, this kind of thing. But still, I mean, corporate mindfulness is better than no mindfulness. So that’s better than nothing. Although the whole Western point of view is, is shallow. They can’t really fit in complete Dhamma. All you get is—&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Sorry?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: They can’t fit complete Dhamma into the system. They would have to change the system in order for Buddhism really to fit. And so they can only take little pieces of Buddhism, and fit it in.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Interesting. Um, I’m curious how this will develop in the world, because I know in the Netherlands, for example, the Dhamma Organization (referring to the Goenka system)…they’re doing very well. They only live off donations, so no capitalist ambitions, um, but…and they’re making profit. (laughs) &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Or, they have a surplus of money to build new centers.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, the Goenka system is very successful.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah, and I, I know that they have it in America too, and I really hope that they maintain its purity in the sense that, um, nobody tries to capitalize on it, um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm. Yeah, it will be interesting to see what happens now that uh, U Goenka is, is passed away.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Wh-what are your thoughts on that?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I have no idea what’s going to happen…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: …at least with the Goenka system.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Hopefully it will continue to work, because it seems to work better than any other form of Theravada in the West. It’s got some strictness to it, and people get benefit from it, and it’s, it’s being supported.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah I think so too, I have a lot of hope for it, and um…a lot of my friends, especially my generation is busy with spirituality…um, because we are a generation um, that is very ambitions and has been taught we can do what we want…um, but the system, or the world that we live in isn’t always accommodating for us. So the Baby Booner, Boomer generation, they, for lack of a better word, fucked up a lot of things. (laughs) I mean, or, made some good things too, but, um, in terms of the environment, in terms of certain systems they set up, uh, it’s been harmful…so a lot of young people, they really value being happy, and uh, gaining some kind of meaning in their—our lives…we’re stuck in this expectations, uh, gap, where we have these huge expectations for ourselves, and we’re constantly not, not reaching it…. Um, yeah, you could call us the “And And And” generation. We want this and that and and and and. Um, because we have much more tools to be able to reach those, but also not necessarily the experience to, to be able to fit in, um…. So there, there are signs of, of hope. But it’s uh, what I find very powerful about it…. And of course, um, my generation has a lot of Romantic influences. So…&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Romantic in what way?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: With a capital R.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, OK, so like the early 1800’s.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yes…kind of this expressivistic thing that we have to express <i>ourselves</i> and be <i>ourselves</i>. Um…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: That’s good.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yes, but it becomes an attachment, because we strive for this authenticity, like, “I want to be authentic! I want to be authentic!”&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But it doesn’t work that way, because being authentic is just—is like default setting. You just automatically be yourself; it’s only if you try <i>not</i> to be yourself that, that you stop being yourself. It doesn’t take any effort at all to be yourself, I mean you can do it perfectly, it’s the one thing you can do absolutely perfectly is be yourself, ‘cause what else are you going to be?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But it’s like, people try to live up to these ideas about how things <i>ought</i> to be, and they don’t see that everything is already perfect. And it’s…so, by trying to live up to how things ought to be, then it just makes things worse.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. So you were talking, in a, in an email you referenced<span class="s1"> </span>this Russian……eh, camp, or something? That he realized that only by changing the people themselves… &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, Dos—Dostoevsky!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah. Yeah, that was, that was part of his philosophy, like in, part of the message in his, in his books…is that the only way to change the world isn’t by changing laws or changing economic systems or anything like that, it’s by changing the heart of the person. Each person has to change the world inside himself or herself. And I think that’s true. &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. I think so too. I think so too. Perhaps it’s only just bottom-up.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Uh…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: But that’s the most important part. I mean you can, you can change things on the outside too; and, mostly in the West they try to start with the outside and then work in. But I think it’s probably better to start on the inside and work out. I think that would probably work better.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah. Beautiful. Um, yeah, kind of, think, think globally, but act locally.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Wonderful. I, I think um……yeah, I think I, I’m very happy with uh…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Good!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Happy is good.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) Yes, happy is good. Um…I’m, I’m trying to look for a good way to round this off, because I think we could talk for hours about, uh, all sorts of things…um….</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Probably.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: But um……perhaps, uh, a nice…way to end would be…uh, I’m very inspired by Rumi, um, and there’s a poem, “Say I Am You.” Um, so of course it, it, it’s uh, in a way it would be impossible for me to be you. (laughs)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Um……but perhaps it could be interesting to say, uh…maybe you think about how, how I might have experienced this interview (laughs) and you, and how I think you experienced the interview, or something like that. (laughs again)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I’m supposed to try to explain how you experienced it?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: And then you’re going to try to explain how I experienced it? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah! (laughs)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: You go first!</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Well, I think, I think um, you were very present, and um, I think very interested, and I think you also used your words concisely and wisely. And um, I think, I think you enjoyed it…(laughs) I hope! And you? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well, you seem happy; I mean you seem to be, uh, you also seem to enjoy it. And uh, like I said before, you seem to have a lot of passion and, and energy, which is, is flowing through you at the time. And I hope it’s not just because you’re young.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) Yeah. OK, and then the last thing I want to know is, what are your plans now? You, you said you want to go back to Burma?</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I don’t necessarily want to, but I think it’s probably going to happen, simply because it’s easier to live there. Like here, like I told you already I’m supported almost entirely by Burmese people anyway, so…if I go back to Burma then I have, uh, more options. It’s also healthier there, I get more exercise. Although it would be nice to interact with Westerners. But it doesn’t happen very much.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: So…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Have, have you thought about Europe? As well?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, I’ve thought about it.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah! Because, um, I think there’s…we’re a little bit less uh, messed up, maybe? (laughs, unclear) Uh, or miserable? Um, and…yeah, you could think about living at a Vipassana center…you know? At a Dhamma center. I don’t know if they allow that, but um, um…&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Probably not.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Really? Why?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, it’s not really a monk-oriented system.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, that’s true.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: You know, they would treat monks like anybody else, so that, you know, you can do the retreat or do the course for ten days, and then you work in the kitchen or something, and…something like that.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, but you can also stay at the center for a couple months.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, I didn’t know that.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah, you can. Like, to take care of it, to do the, the green, and to…um…you know, then you do have to meditate like three hours a day, but uh…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: That part is easy.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah! Exactly. There’s a little bit more—especially the Netherlands, I think, is opening up a lot more for spirituality. And we need people like you. We really do. We need people like you to inspire us, and to show us a good example, like you said. And um…yeah, it is true it’s a capitalist meritocracy also here, uh, but people…I can assure you, people will search for a certain enlightenment in their lives. And if there is, um, somebody who can show them the way, then um, yeah, it can only benefit them, I think.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, well, most people, they want to search or they want to be happy, but they don’t know where to look; they don’t know how to be happy.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Everybody is trying, but most people don’t succeed.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah, I, I grant anybody a drop of Dhamma or…a drop of meditation…because……</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Well if I get invited to the Netherlands maybe I’ll come.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Well you’re welcome! (laughs) Here’s your invitation! Yeah, just drop by! If you’re going to Burma you have to hop—you know…or you go the other way?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Uh, yeah, I just go across the Pacific O—</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Oh yeah! Yeah, (laughs) which is a bit of a detour! (laughs again)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I’ve heard of at least one monastery in, in the Netherlands also.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Oh really? Uh, oh…I don’t know about it, but um…there’s also nuns and stuff you can hang out with. (laughs) If they let you! (keeps laughing)&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I might be a bad influence on them.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) Induced desire! Let them eh, eh, focus—cheat on Jesus, basically. (keeps laughing) Yeah. Nice. OK. Thank you very much.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: You’re welcome.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah. Yeah, I would love to know more one day about…yeah, what steps, or struggles, you had. It would be nice to know. (laughs) But um, maybe we should keep it at this; what do you think about that? &nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, that’s fine with me.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Yeah? OK. Um, yeah, I’m going to, uh, keep the video, and I’m going to send it to you…um…uh, I don’t know if I should edit it, because…yeah, things are good as they are. (laughs) Um…but people have low attention spans these days.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Mm.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: And let’s keep in touch. You’re going to do a retreat, you said?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, during December.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: OK, wonderful. Do you want to get in touch afterwards?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Good idea.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: I’m really curious how it was for you, and uh…take good care…</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Yeah, I’m curious to see how it will go too.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: Interesting. Wonderful, um, yeah, please let me know, and thank you so much for your time. Uh, it was really nice to speak with you, you are so wise, um, and it’s been an inspiration for me as well; so I will meditate now, and uh…&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: I’m glad.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) You have a wonderful evening.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Oh, I can’t make any promises, but we’ll see how it goes.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">EF: (laughs) All right. Take good care. Goodbye…David. (waves)</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2">P: Bye bye.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN9M6ng2g0s/VpLGdwuLGmI/AAAAAAAABik/qa8P7W23Kis/s1600/additional_Hands2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN9M6ng2g0s/VpLGdwuLGmI/AAAAAAAABik/qa8P7W23Kis/s400/additional_Hands2.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-49309312048848223432016-01-09T17:19:00.000-08:002016-01-09T17:49:00.930-08:00Belly Meditation (part 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><b>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; </b><i>Two monks were sharing a cabin. One of them was an avid practitioner of sitting meditation, and sat regularly. One time the other monk asked him, “What are you doing?”</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “I’m sitting in meditation.”&nbsp;</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Why?” the second monk asked.</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Because I want to become a Buddha,” was the answer.</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So the second monk went outside, and a few minutes later returned with a brick, and he sat down and began polishing it.</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “What are you doing?” the meditator monk asked him.</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “I’m polishing this brick.”</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Why?”</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Because I want to make a mirror.”</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The meditator was puzzled. “How are you going to make a mirror by polishing a brick?”</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Well, how are you going to become a Buddha by sitting in meditation?”</i></div><div class="p1"><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; </i>—old Zen story</div><div class="p2"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Before attending the one-month vipassana retreat at Tathagata Meditation Center I hadn’t attempted to practice the Mahasi method of meditation since I was at Panditarama 19 years ago. I was much more accustomed to noting the sensations of the breath at the nostrils, and also of meditating with no primary object at all; so noting the rising and falling of the abdomen as I breathed took some getting used to. Just as I do not like noting “breathing in, breathing out” when doing anapana, but prefer just observing the feeling of air at the nostrils (without going so far as to identify it as “the feeling of air at the nostrils”), I avoided noting “rising, falling” and simply observed the sensations involved in the process. I consider this to take a meditator closer to reality, since “rising and falling” are merely concepts. When I told the sayadaws of this, they didn’t tell me not to do it, so I continued with it.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another slight challenge, especially at first, was that I have developed a years-long habit of repeating “aum” inwardly, mainly as a kind of samatha practice, especially when I am walking. So I was continually noting spontaneous aums and stopping them. I’m pretty sure the sayadaws would not have approved of me continuing with a Hindu samatha practice at the retreat.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The Mahasi method emphasizes the importance of walking meditation, with Sayadaw going so far as to assert that walking for a full hour is more important that sitting for a full hour. Mahasi walking is generally in ultra slow motion, so that if one glances at a meditator for only a few moments it often looks as though they are simply standing there balancing on one leg. Like most meditators, I like sitting better than walking, appreciating the opportunity to stretch one's legs without totally losing momentum, but nevertheless frequently using walking meditation hour as a convenient time to fill water bottles, use the bathroom, and maybe have a cup of coffee.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One element of the retreat that, if not a challenge, was at least an inconvenience, was the standardized method of mettā meditation. The guided mettā meditations that we did every evening were really not my bag of tea, for various reasons: First, I was simply repeating somebody else’s words, so the mettā was not spontaneous but was essentially an echo of somebody else’s good will (or so it felt at the time). Second, the formula consisted of making many long-winded, grandiose, and totally unrealistic wishes toward all beings in this area, this county, this state, this world, this universe etc., toward all living things, all breathing creatures, all beings endowed with personality, all females, all males, all devas, all humans, all inhabitants of the lower realms, etc. etc. To wish that all beings in the universe be free of suffering, trouble, harm, and so on seems to wish for an utter impossibility. Even the first Noble Truth denies its possibility. Third, the recitation was carried out in slow motion, at a speed that is maybe half the rate at which I normally speak, which made the generation of mettā feel even more artificial and unnatural. Also sometimes I would reflect on the idea that this method was possibly developed by U Paṇḍita himself, a man who I consider to be nowhere near an adept at loving kindness. I seemed to get the most benefit from using the recitation as a practice in observing the movements of my mouth and throat, plus other associated feelings. I like mettā, but the method seemed too contrived and artificial to me, like plastic mettā. Some of the Asian women seemed to really get into it though, as could be heard in their enthusiasm as they recited.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>One evening, shortly after I had been reflecting on my lack of resonation with the mettā practice, the sayadaws did not show up for the last meditation session of the evening. I sat there thinking that when the bell rang for mettā chanting, without the sayadaws there to lead, someone else would probably have to do it, and I appeared to be the logical choice. I was senior monk there, and senior yogi, sitting up front and going first in line at lunch, etc., so despite my lack of rapport with the chanting, it looked like I should initiate it that evening. When the bell rang, everyone sat there in silence, waiting for a leader to start. I looked over at the ancient bhikkhuni, but she obviously had no intention of starting anything. I opened the chanting book…and because I had just opened my eyes, it was dark, reading books by candlelight in caves had somewhat wrecked my vision already, and I did not have my glasses handy, the contents of the book appeared as an illegible blur. I remembered that the recitation began with something like </i>ahaṁ avero homi <i>(“May I be without enmity”), but my mouth wasn’t used to saying it; on the other hand, it was very used to saying </i>ahaṁ āvuso sabbā āpattiyo āvikaromi <i>(“Friend, I make plain all offenses,” which is the first thing said when making confession to a junior monk). So, with some uncertainty about the whole situation, I opened my mouth and said out loud in the silent meditation hall, so that everyone could hear, “</i>ahaṁ āvu…<i>” But I knew that </i>āvuso<i> wasn’t right, so I stopped. Then I tried again, announcing, “</i>…āvu…<i>” Nope, still not right. Then, mercifully, some Asian women started reciting, correctly, and within a few seconds everyone else had joined in, preventing me from making a total and complete idiot of myself. I usually just whispered the Pali, but considering that I was the leader this time, sort of, I actually vocalized the whole thing, which came easier after the ice was broken and my eyes adjusted well enough to read. I don’t know if any of us succeeded in beaming mettā to all beings in all universes, but I enjoyed the feeling of community, of togetherness, as we chanted, and the time passed with less drag. Nevertheless, the very next night, with the sayadaws once again at the front, I reverted to lip-syncing it.&nbsp;</i></blockquote><div class="p2"><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</i>Many years of meditation and mindfulness practice gave me a certain head start at the retreat, although all meditators begin treated as beginners, and are given more advanced practices only when the sayadaw discerns at an interview that the meditator is ready for it. But despite my head start, still I encountered certain complications which resulted in efforts on my part to “tweak” the Mahasi method. I was willing to follow the sayadaws’ instructions, but took the liberty to make adjustments that I felt were plausibly within the limitations of the method—the Mahasi method is actually pretty flexible, with various ways of going about it, since no two meditators are exactly alike. I always informed the sayadaws of my adjustments, however.<i></i></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One trouble I was having from the beginning, in addition to the transition from nose to belly as the primary object of attention, was the narrow observation of the object that the method seems to favor. We were to examine the object carefully, seeing it as completely and in as much detail as possible, which seemed to me that we must look at it very closely. But when my attention is narrowed to examine a single object, it is as though the thinking mind is off to the side, or behind me, “off camera,” and I can start thinking without realizing it at first, since I am attending to something else. I’d be watching the abdomen and then I’d eventually realize that I’d been thinking for the past thirty seconds. At an interview U Paññāsāmi advised me that, when my concentration deepens, the breath slows, and there is a rest between out breath and following in breath, I should note sitting and touching as additional primary objects; so I tweaked this into an allowance to use mindfulness of the sitting posture as a way of widening my attention to include everything that was going on inside “me”—thereby allowing me at the end of each breath to run a “systems check” and see if I had started to think intellectually. It also allowed me to check in on other possible objects, like hearing or hurting. I gradually managed a really nice system in which I would focus on the movement of the abdomen during the breath, although with the whole body as a kind of backdrop, which I would then observe widely when the breath temporarily ceased. Often there would be a kind of image or feeling of a pyramid or pagoda shape (my body in meditative posture, rendered more pagoda-like by being wrapped in a blanket) composed of various sensations—buzzing in my hands and feet, pains in my back and shoulder, itches, the pressure in my ear, etc.—with a kind of pulsating abdominal sphere in the center of all of it. I acquired a new appreciation for the belly as the center of attention, as it is right in the center of the body pyramid. I disobeyed orders slightly by noting rising, falling, sitting, without paying much attention to touching as a primary object. When I would describe this at interviews the sayadaws didn’t tell me to stop; although that may have been partly because they didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another complication became manifest about three weeks into the retreat. I was describing at an interview my careful examination of my own mind and my intention to “catch” the thought as quickly as it arose, sometimes noting that intention to catch (noting the intention to note) also, when ven. U Paññobhāsa gave me some of the best advice I was to receive from him: “Don’t wait. Don’t watch. Don’t search for something to note.” Then the next day at the Dhamma talk U Paññāsāmi said, “Do not examine purposefully. Do not investigate purposefully.” This caused a considerable change in my practice, since that’s exactly what I had been doing from the beginning. It seemed essentially what we were instructed to do, until we were finally instructed to do the opposite. The thing is, though, that my mind does not naturally, spontaneously tend toward effortless examination of objects, especially when I’m meditating. Rather than beginning to analyze an object into its constituent elements, as a Burmese Abhidhamma scholar might do, as my mindfulness gets deeper the attention holds the object more and more loosely, until finally it simply lets go, and I sit there not noting anything, in the manner of a mirror. Everything is there; I see it clearly; but I don’t investigate it or analyze it, and thus I don’t have much fine detail to report at interviews. My mind seems naturally inclined to move away from the progression of discernment on which the Mahasi method is based. The only way I could examine an object deeply was to do it purposefully, and we were expressly instructed not to do that. The sayadaws didn’t say much about this dilemma, maybe not knowing what to say. Or maybe it was already nearing the end of the retreat, so they just let me be. I don’t know.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Christmas day: The food served at the retreat was very healthy; I have no doubt of that; but it was also chewy and flavorless, which, I suppose, is very suitable for a meditation retreat. So before Christmas I had occasionally observed twinges of hope that something with actual flavor would be served on the big holiday. The meal turned out to be pretty much the same as always, although as I was sitting at my table a Burmese lady came around with a box of little pastries and gave me four of them. They looked delicious, almost sinful. One was a little chocolate-covered eclair. Just as she was serving them to me, the Mahayana monk sat down beside me; but the Burmese lady didn’t give him any of the pastries. This sort of situation made me a little uncomfortable at times: Burmese people would come almost every day to offer food to the sayadaws, and sometimes would offer a little food to the two American bhikkhu meditators, but they never gave food to the Mahayana monk. Partly this was because he often came later than they offered the food, and it was just as well in most cases, since the Burmese offer lots of animal flesh, which Mahayana monks, I’m pretty sure, don’t eat. But it seemed like he should have got some pastry too. I sat there wrestling with greed for all four pastries, and the desire to share with the Mahayana monk. I looked at the bland, fiber-laden health food in my bowl, then at the glorious chocolate-covered ambrosia, and occasionally felt a twinge of desire that the Vietnamese monk would finish and leave the table before I was finished with my bowl and ready to attend to the dessert. But, he finished at the same time I did, and sat there drinking his tea, or hot water, or whatever. I had to do it. I picked up the little bowl of pastries and offered them to him. He noticed what I was doing, suddenly flashed a very bright, childlike smile, and then politely refused to take any. It turned out to be a win-win-win situation for me: the Mahayana monk was happy, and had been treated with consideration by the Hinayana monk, I had scored a victory over my own selfishness and greed, and I got to eat all four pastries besides. (Two of them were chocolate things filled with delicious sweet goo.) Even if he had grossly betrayed me by taking all four for himself, I still would have felt better and cleaner than if I hadn’t made the offer. There was a fifth pastry that the Burmese lady had inadvertently dropped upside down onto the table, and had then just left it there, which I also wanted to eat. I reasoned that I was touching the table when the little cake landed on it, which meant, plausibly, that it was properly offered. I restrained myself and refrained, however, picking it up off the table, cleaning the slight mess, and I threw it away, feeling that it was such a waste to throw away a still perfectly good piece of cake. </i>&nbsp;</blockquote><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;One phenomenon that I noticed, which I also have noticed at other places, is that Sayadaw in his Dhamma talks would often give hints as to what the meditators ought to experience. Sometimes he would just flat-out tell them. In one or two of his talks, for example, he said that when one’s mindfulness deepens one may discern several stages in the process of rising of the abdomen, and several stages in the process of falling: seeing the beginning, middle, and end, and then seeing transition states between beginning and middle and middle and end, etc. In a later talk he mentioned that some of the meditators were now reporting that they saw many stages in the rising and falling process, but at the same interview they would also say that their mind kept wandering away with thoughts. He added, “That is not possible.” It seems pretty likely to me that many meditators, guided by hints, get into a more or less hypnotic state in which they see what they think they ought to see. It may even be that the effortless investigation of objects previously referred to would be a case of this, as I do not know how it would happen otherwise, unless most people are very different from me in their thinking and really do tend spontaneously toward analysis of phenomena into smaller parts. Then again, I must admit that I have not completed the Mahasi method; I’ve never finished the course, as they say, so I can’t say from experience where it leads. All I can say is that successful meditators believe that they experience the so-called insight knowledges in the correct, complete sequence, known in Burmese as <i>nyan-zin</i>, and that they thereby become sotāpannas, having glimpsed Nibbāna and become Buddhist saints. So I guess I should discuss Mahasi ariyas, since after all they are the final end-products of the system.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The Mahasi system itself appears to be specifically designed to churn out sotāpannas. Thus it is a rather goal-oriented system which, in its pure Burmese form, considers awareness of the present moment to be a kind of means to an end, rather than its own reward. Western teachers influenced by the Mahasi method often de-emphasize this goal orientation, which I consider to indicate a strength of the Western point of view. The route of progress is along the aforementioned <i>nyan-zin</i>, which is not listed in any sutta, but is derived from the medieval commentarial tradition. Maybe even the definition of a sotāpanna as a low level saint who has glimpsed Nibbāna is a doctrinal artifact not originating with the Buddha himself.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I have met two Burmese monks who, after finishing the course and being declared an ariya by U Paṇḍita himself, realized sooner or later that they weren’t really ariyas. And considering the behavior of some of the ones who don’t realize, I’d guess that many, possibly all, are not really what they consider themselves to be. Besides, I doubt that a true ariya would believe “I am this” or “I am that,” since they would no longer believe in a self to be anything. So I considered the future orientation, for example the daily aspiration that our practice was to culminate in path and fruition knowledge, to be somewhat of a drawback in the practice.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Christmas day: I was walking down the corridor in the men’s dormitory when I heard the sound of a screaming pig. I thought it was peculiar that someone would choose a screaming pig for the sound of their cell phone alarm. But when I went outside I continued hearing the pig. I realized that the sound was coming from next door, which was some kind of compound inhabited by Mexican people which sometimes served as a party venue. They had outdoor cookouts there sometimes. The screaming continued for several minutes, until I heard the grunt of a human male exerting himself, accompanied simultaneously by a thud, and the pig fell silent. It was only stunned, however, as it began screaming again shortly thereafter. But eventually the screaming stopped. I considered our daily wishes for all beings to be well and happy, and also considered the bit of pork sausage given to me recently by a Burmese donor, which sausage I willingly ate. The next evening, wafting over the fence from the party venue was the delicious, savory aroma of roast pork. It was like incense it was so aromatic. It smelled really good. I considered that the source of that delicious smell had been a screaming, tormented being just the day before, and that almost all meat that we eat has a similar source. It still smelled really good.&nbsp;</i></blockquote><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The Burmese Buddhist emphasis on theory is something that I have almost always tended to avoid whenever possible, to the extent of avoiding big sayadaws also. To give just one more example, in the suttas meditation on the breath is compared to tethering a wild animal to a post. The purpose of this is to prevent the animal from roaming at will, and eventually to help tame it—<i>not</i> for the purpose of encouraging the animal to analyze the post into its constituent elements. Especially not if the constituent elements are derived from ancient Indian philosophy (earth element, water element, fire element, air element) which is difficult to swallow by a modern Westerner with a scientific background.&nbsp;<i></i></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Well, two more examples. Two principles that the venerable sayadaw sited as genuine knowledge to be derived from vipassana practice, in addition to awareness of the four elements, are 1) the clear distinction of mind and matter, and 2) the clear discernment of cause and effect. Now, I am philosophical enough to know that physical matter cannot really be <i>known</i> directly. We infer its existence, but can’t see it directly because what we actually see are mental states, non-physical sensory data. What the Burmese consider to be distinction of matter and mind seems more precisely to be a distinction of feeling and perception. And ever since reading the philosophy of David Hume I have been able to appreciate that causation also cannot be actually seen. Causality also is based on inference, on an educated guess. U Paññāsāmi’s example of a clear knowledge of causation was not convincing: he said that we see that the rising and falling of the abdomen is caused by the movement of air in and out of it. Assuming for the sake of argument that physical matter exists, it would seem to be more accurate to say the the exact reverse is true—it’s the movement of the abdomen that causes the air to move in and out.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But one advantage of the Mahasi method is that one can sidestep most of the extraneous theory relatively easily, much more easily than with, say, the Pah Auk method. I was just there to meditate, to do a month of intensive practice. I am grateful for that opportunity, and realize that the two sayadaws who were my teachers sincerely were trying to help me become enlightened.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Besides, <i>everybody</i> says things I don’t believe. You say things I don’t believe. I say plenty of things you don’t believe. There’s no escape from that.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Long ago, after my severe trial at Panditarama, I asked the wise sayadaw U Jotika what he thought of the Mahasi method. He said, “You can get benefit from practicing it, but it is a limited method.” I agree with that assessment, although, as I say, I’ve never finished the course, so I can’t say from personal experience exactly where the method leads. There is real profundity to be found in intensive mindfulness practice; and different philosophical points of view will come up with different theories to account for it, although perhaps none of them can really do it justice. I suspect that orthodox Theravada as defined by the commentarial tradition, and the Mahasi version of same, doesn’t do it justice. The underlying profundity is still there, though.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>On the second-to-last day of the retreat I was at the table in the refectory, head down, eating as mindfully as I could manage from my alms bowl, but occasionally indulging in some critical thoughts about the Mahasi method. Someone approached and started to put some boiled greens into the bowl. At first I assumed it was another Burmese lay supporter bringing something from the sayadaws’ table, but then I noticed the person was wearing brown monastic robes. I quickly glanced up to see Sayadaw U Paññāsāmi himself, standing there offering me food. Then he went back to his table. It was a totally gratuitous act of mettā and good will. Unless maybe he could sense my thoughts, and wanted gently to nudge me away from them. Either way, I ate more mindfully after that.</i></blockquote><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;There was one question that I wanted to ask Sayadaw: In the Anattalakkhaṇa Sutta it is said that with any of the five aggregates of which we are composed, we cannot say “Let it be this way, let it not be that way,” and be sure that it will happen. In other words, we do not have real control over any of the five aggregates, including the aggregate of kamma formations, which is volition. If we had control over them, then we could call them a “self,” but there is no true self, and thus no complete control. So how does this relate to the repeated exhortations for us to tame our mind? There must be a limit to how far we can tame something over which we lack control. Can we know where to draw the line in our meditation practice? That is the question. But by the time it occurred to me to ask, I was having interviews with U Paññobhāsa, and didn’t have any more with Sayadaw U Paññāsāmi. I did ask U Paññobhāsa; and although he gave a nice, poetic kind of answer, I don’t think that it really answered the question. He compared meditation practice to climbing a mountain: Sometimes we pass through areas that are barren and rocky, so it is unsuitable for us to stop there. Other places are beautiful valleys, very nice places…but we shouldn’t stop there either, because we must push on to the mountain’s peak. As I say, it doesn’t seem to answer the question. Maybe the no-self/self-control paradox is just a mystery, with no clear answer. Maybe he was implying that one shouldn’t bother with figuring it out, but should keep pushing on till one has reached the summit. I don’t know. I am reminded of the statement of Ramana Maharshi, that the only free will we really have is the choice whether or not to be mindful.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Walking away from the retreat, I feel that one of the biggest insights I experienced, although not included on the schedule of <i>nyan-zin</i>, occurred with regard to sleepiness. Sleepiness or “torpor” is a common experience at an intensive retreat, and Sayadaw instructed me to note it, and see it clearly. I saw that there are various kinds of sleepiness: the dreamy, comfortable sleepiness of the very first sit of the morning; the surreal, energized sleepiness after the meal; and the low-energy, intractable, almost headachy sleepiness of late at night. The insight consists of realizing that sleepiness is not a reduction of consciousness, but rather a sleepy, monopolizing mental state which covers over the consciousness; and that, under certain conditions, all of those forms of torpor can be penetrated, and on the other side there is clear consciousness, pure awakeness. It’s always there. This applies to more than just sleepiness too.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In conclusion, I would say that the Mahasi method is generally a good method of practice, conducive to profound experience and real benefit, despite some questionable aspects of its theoretical side; and the retreat was a genuine blessing for me. Tathagata Meditation Center is like a miracle, and a blessing for anyone who practices there. It does my heart good to see such a place in America. The setup and the routine are similar to centers in the Mahasi tradition in Myanmar; so those of you in America who have considered going to Asia to do some intensive practice might consider trying a retreat in San Jose first, since it gives a good taste of what a Burmese place is like, and is probably cheaper, all in all, considering air fare from the USA. It’s much cheaper than a place like Spirit Rock (with $750 being hardly enough for a weekend workshop at some of the higher-end luxury retreat centers of the Vipassana Elite), with an approach that is more traditional and closer to the ancient way, and with instructors who for the most part are much better trained. It turned out in my case that after the retreat the organizer tried to refund the full entry fee for my stay, and various people associated with the retreat offered an additional $340 on my behalf. I turned down the refund, requesting that they allow someone else, who maybe can’t afford $25 a day, to do the next one-month retreat for free, so long as they agree to two conditions: 1) they meditate diligently, and 2) they practice for the full month. Ideally, Dhamma and meditation practice are priceless.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The web address for TMC is <a href="http://tathagata.org/">tathagata.org</a>.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</div><br /><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pyNB70p76K8/VohjXf232II/AAAAAAAABh4/B1ChUcvifQA/s1600/walking%2Bmeditation.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="326" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pyNB70p76K8/VohjXf232II/AAAAAAAABh4/B1ChUcvifQA/s400/walking%2Bmeditation.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>some early Western attempts at walking meditation</i></span></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p2" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-9727887150738352832016-01-02T15:12:00.000-08:002016-01-02T15:12:26.109-08:00Belly Meditation (part 1)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <i>“Pass the butter.” </i>—Prince Dagwood-Philippe of Hohenstein</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; OK, so I couldn’t come up with a good opening quote for this one.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The last current events post on this here blog, if I remember correctly, was way back last summer, during my 25th rains retreat as a monk. So I suppose it’s time to catch up on that, more or less.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The big excitement of the last part of the rains retreat was eating fried bee larvae at a festival. The Burmese monk sitting next to me at the meal really liked them, and without me even having to ask for any he took the liberty of putting a scoop of them onto my plate. I looked at the maggoty-looking things on my plate and seriously considered just leaving them there; but then I considered that, as an ascetic, I shouldn’t be fussy and should just eat the little bastards, which I did. Actually, they weren’t bad, so long as I didn’t think about what I was eating, or pay much attention to the squishiness between my teeth after the lightly crispy insect carapaces were crushed. The Burmese monk who liked them helped himself to seconds, and then thirds. Almost needless to say, he and I were the only people who ate any of them.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The very next weekend there was the further excitement of seeing, for the first time in my life, a blue dog. It wasn’t dyed blue either, mind you, but had fur that was naturally a greyish blue color. There was a little brown around the edges, but mostly, I feel the need to emphasize, it was really a blue dog. It is almost a little sad that such an event came so late in my life, considering that in just a few decades genetic engineering may make available sapphire blue dogs with horns, ornamental wings, and the tail of a peacock. But still, I was impressed.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The end of the rains retreat is the beginning of the one-month <i>kathina</i> season, in which ceremonies are held for the purpose of laypeople making offerings of robes and other requisites to monks and monasteries. As I have written elsewhere, I used to strictly forbid <i>kathina</i> ceremonies at my monastery in Burma, as the whole thing has become corrupt to the point of meaninglessness; my Burmese colleague ven. Garudhamma admits that, nowadays, the primary purpose of the ceremonies is simply “fundraising,” i.e., the raking in of loot. But though I have little use for them myself, and forbade them at my own place, I found myself making the rounds after the rains retreat and attended maybe six <i>kathina</i> ceremonies during the subsequent lunar month.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One ceremony was at a Sri Lankan monastery, at which I saw, for the first time I think, one of the controversial new bhikkhunis. I arrived shortly before the meal and left shortly thereafter, and did not exchange a single word with her, which maybe was just as well, as there might have been call for me to express my opinions on the attempted revival of the bhikkhuni order, which is something I would usually prefer to avoid in a public context. Also at this ceremony, strangely, I saw the Sri Lankan abbot standing in the midst of the shrine room surrounded by people, with his arm around one of the prettiest young women at the place. I’ve never seen the likes of it at a Burmese or Thai temple. The Sri Lankans are onto something big, really big.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Another <i>kathina </i>ceremony I was herded to was at Tathagata Meditation Center in San Jose. Technically it could be called a Theravada Buddhist monastery, with a Burmese sayadaw serving as abbot and a few nuns also inhabiting the place; although first and foremost it is a vipassana retreat center. It was set up by a Vietnamese group that has embraced the Burmese Mahasi method as their spiritual vehicle, and it’s a relatively quiet, serious, pretty place. Anyway, during the ceremony, after enduring the discomfort of hearing the venerable sayadaw telling the audience (mostly Asian people, but with quite a few Westerners in attendance) about the importance, special benefits, and “great merit” of offering <i>kathina</i> robes to monks—despite the fact that the monks rarely wear these robes, and they are often simply put into a closet till the following year, whereupon they are taken out and sold to laypeople to offer again—a Vietnamese coordinator announced a one-month long intensive vipassana retreat to be conducted in December at the center. I had been hoping for an opportunity to do some intensive practice around December anyway, so I decided to inquire about it.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I sent an email to the organizer of the retreat, and she respectfully informed me that I was very welcome, and that I should submit my check for $750 ($25 per day, to cover expenses of food and utilities, etc.) as soon as possible to ensure my admission, as these retreats are almost always sold out fairly quickly. Now, I have never liked the idea of charging money for Dhamma, since Dhamma is priceless and should be equally available to everyone; and I also didn’t like the idea of a monk being charged money to practice meditation at what is technically a Buddhist monastery. Since my ordination as a bhikkhu I had never been charged money for the privilege of meditating before. So, I figured I wouldn’t attend the retreat. Two Western friends of mine told me that, relatively speaking, charging only $25 a day is actually quite reasonable, but still I didn’t like the idea. I even considered sending an admonishing letter to the retreat organizer, giving my opinion of charging money for retreats, even to monks who don’t handle money, but I am glad that I didn’t do it.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A day or two later, at meal time I told a Burmese gentleman about how the meditation center wanted to charge $750 for me to attend the retreat. I had already decided not to go, so I wasn’t angling for anything by telling him; mainly I just thought he might be interested to hear that monks are charged money to meditate in America. But within an hour of my telling him this, he and a small group of Burmese supporters came to my room and happily presented a check for $750, so I could attend the retreat. I was really impressed by the good will and generosity of the lay supporters, and didn’t want to refuse them, so somewhat reluctantly I changed my mind and decided to attend the retreat after all. I also determined to practice diligently in order to do justice to the Burmese group’s generous faith in me. That same day one of them took the check to TMC, and I was duly registered for the retreat.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I admit that right up until entering the retreat I had ambivalent feelings about the whole thing. I probably wouldn’t know anyone there. Of all the people I have encountered, the Vietnamese have struck me as being the most mysteriously inscrutable—although I suppose their inscrutability may simply conceal the fact that they really <i>aren’t</i> mysterious. Most importantly, I didn’t know the Burmese sayadaw who would be leading the retreat, so I didn’t know how rigid his methods would be, or how similar he would be to his former teacher, the occasionally angry and fierce U Paṇḍita. I considered withdrawing from the thing, not being particularly eager to begin, but stayed the course with the idea that no matter how it turned out, it would be a good experience for me, and also with the intention of honoring the generosity of the Burmese people who so willingly came up with the $750. The night before the retreat began, as I was packing my stuff for the trip, I looked for my sandals and couldn’t find them. So I went without shoes, although I might not have worn them even if I had found them. So long as there is no danger of frostbitten toes I can walk barefoot without difficulty.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As an example of typical weird retreat karma, I will mention that on the very first day of the retreat I noticed in the men’s bathroom a rack containing, among other things, a large box of Q-tips and a sign saying “feel free to use these items,” so I cleaned my ears—and in the process accidentally pushed earwax up against my right eardrum, blocking it and causing a distracting pressurized feeling in that ear as well as rendering it about half deaf. I tried cleaning out the obstruction but was unsuccessful. On the second day I noticed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide on the same rack, so I started using it to dissolve the earwax. (Yes, hydrogen peroxide dissolves earwax.) Three times a day, during walking meditation times, I would go into my room, tilt my head to one side, pour in a little hydrogen peroxide, and stay there for twenty minutes or so mindfully experiencing the fizzing in my right ear. The trouble was that I had no squeeze bulb or other apparatus for flushing out the half-dissolved ear excrement, so all it did was sink and settle up against the eardrum, keeping it blocked. After about four or five days of this ritual I finally gave it up as a bad job and went around with a pressurized, half-deaf ear. I got used to it pretty quickly, and after approximately 18 days it naturally came unblocked.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For the first ten days or so Kate Bush was repeatedly playing in my mind, especially music from her album <i>Hounds of Love</i> (“<i>Come on baby, come on darling, let me steal this moment from you now</i>…”). She eventually faded out and was briefly replaced by “Private Idaho” by the B-52s.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>Day 3: Towards the end of the consistently surreal after-lunch sitting session, as I was sleepily attempting to distinguish between the sensations of air at the nostrils and abdominal movements, suddenly the word “boustrophedon” popped into my mind. I was sure it wasn’t a genus of dinosaur, and guessed that it meant writing from right to left instead of vice versa, which turned out to be close. (It means writing one line from left to right, then the next from right to left, and so on. I looked it up in the dictionary just now, before writing this.)</i></blockquote><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Just for the purpose of providing some information about TMC, I may as well include some demographic data. At any given time, there were approximately 6-7 Western men, 10-12 Asian men, 6-7 Western women, and 20-25 Asian women practicing as yogis at the retreat. (At one of his Dhamma talks the sayadaw explained the predominance of women at meditation retreats by saying that women have more devotion.) Most of the Asians were Vietnamese, with a few Burmese, Chinese, and Indians, and at least one Thai name on the interview roster. Most of the Asians were also older, with apparently nobody younger than 35 years old until about halfway through the retreat, when a few college-student-looking meditators appeared. The Westerners were more diverse age-wise, with young people and old. The two bhikkhus enrolled were both American—a junior monk ordained at Abhayagiri, and me—as well as about half a dozen Asian Buddhist nuns of several denominations, including one ancient nun whose name began with the honorific <i>Ayyā</i>, or “lady,” and whose signature included the word “Bhikkhuni,” so she would count as the second new bhikkhuni I have ever seen. A Vietnamese Mahayana Buddhist monk appeared during the last ten days of the retreat. There were some struggling beginners there, and also some heavy hitters who regularly sat for three hours at a stretch. They also walked much more slowly than I did. I demonstrate my breaking of rules by writing this, as we weren’t supposed to be looking at each other.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>One morning at around 4:30am, as I was walking to the meditation hall in the dark, I happened to see an unusual shape on the lawn. As I drew closer I realized that it was a skunk, crouching there on the grass eating a persimmon. As I slowly passed by, gazing upon the only real live wild skunk I can remember ever seeing, it regarded me warily, although not so warily as to actually stop eating the persimmon. An hour later, when the sayadaw was leading the group in mettā meditation, I made a special point of including the skunk. </i>May all beings at this meditation center be well, happy, and peaceful…including the skunk….May all beings in this area be well, happy, and peaceful…including the skunk….May all beings in the world be well, happy, and peaceful…including the skunk…. <i>The whole rest of the day I mindfully observed the urge to tell somebody, “This morning I saw a skunk in the yard!” But I didn’t tell anybody, as we weren’t supposed to talk unless it was necessary. I really wanted to tell someone though. It was an auspicious secret skunk. (Sādhu, Sādhu, Sādhu.)</i></blockquote><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The retreat was conducted by venerable Sayadaw U Paññāsāmi—with the same Pali name I had as a temporary novice many years ago—with his assistant sayadaw being venerable U Paññobhāsa—with the same name as I have now. Both monks are quite Burmese. In his Dhamma talks U Paññāsāmi pronounced Pali words with international consonants, but his vowels remained Burmese, which is reminiscent of the Burmese approach to Westernization in general: The objects may be Western, but the relations between them remain traditionally Burmese.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; U Paññāsāmi is one of the many Burmese bhikkhus ordained since childhood, and he has been wearing monastic robes for probably more than fifty years. He was a novice under the guidance of the late great Mahasi Sayadaw, back when the Rangoon Mahasi Center was still new. He also spent many years under the authority of U Paṇḍita, and still considers that venerable sayadaw to be his commanding officer, so to speak. His Dhamma talks are fairly simple, although he often reels off long lists of Pali technical terms and quotes Pali texts at length, apparently looking down at his notes while reciting; but if one looked at his “notes” one would see that they were always the same: a picture of some kind of sea bird diving into water. It’s all from memory. His knowledge of Pali texts, as well as of the Mahasi theory of meditation, is truly remarkable. Also remarkable is the fact that his very Burmese way of giving Dhamma talks seemed to work well, usually, with the Westerners in the audience. He even occasionally had the meditators repeating after him when giving lists of Pali terms like the five faculties and the seven factors of enlightenment. Some of his Dhamma talks were particularly enjoyable and uplifting. One of the things I liked best about him, though, was that he was very unlike his commanding officer, venerable U Paṇḍita—he seemed like a humble, gentle, slightly shy, good-natured person who also happens to be an accomplished meditator. One could feel that he was genuinely friendly, that he was on your side. I would walk out of interviews with him joyous and grateful, which was very different from my interviews at Panditarama nineteen years ago, after which it might take two days for me to cool down enough to get back on track after one of Sayadaw’s frequent scoldings. Unfortunately for me, most of my interviews were with U Paññobhāsa, whose English wasn’t quite as good, and who seemed less adept at understanding precisely where I was at in my meditation.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Despite his friendly disposition, the good Sayadaw maintains some of the traditional fierceness of the Mahasi method, and of old-fashioned Theravada in general. He emphasizes the inevitability of death, citing it as an excellent reason for practicing diligently. He had us repeating things like, “I will age; I am not beyond aging. I will get sick; I am not beyond sickness. I will die; I am not beyond death.” Also: “My life is uncertain; my death is sure to come….My life is uncertain; my death is certain.” Another staple of traditional Mahasi is the idea that “pain is the friend of the meditator.” Pain is the key that unlocks the door to Nibbāna. Our instructions were to try not to change positions during the one-hour sitting sessions, even though the pain might feel so intense that we thought we might die. Many people fudged on that one though. A particularly difficult one for me, especially at first, was having an infuriatingly itchy face and not being allowed to scratch it. An itch on the cheek right beside the nose could be so intense that my arm would be twitching with an automatic reflex to reach up and scratch.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; That pain is the friend of the meditator is a good thing, as I experienced quite a lot of it, especially during the second and third weeks of the retreat. Small, obscure back muscles with unpronounceable Latin names known only to anatomists, of which we are oblivious, after a week of sitting bolt upright for many hours a day suddenly start making their existence known by silently screaming at us. By the time the muscles and ligaments had restructured themselves and settled down I had become a connoisseur of agony: the sharp, narrow, quick, piercing pains in the back just between the spine and the right shoulder blade; the more intense and powerful pulsing agony at the left collarbone, extending up in a kind of string into my neck, intense yet bearable like very spicy food; the much more difficult stretching, glowing, almost sickening pain of a hamstring tendon, behind the knee, with the upper end of the tendon apparently attached to my gall bladder somehow; and so on. Each pain is different, and constantly changing. It’s very easy to note.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I found that pain is not the <i>only</i> friend of the meditator: another invaluable one is instant coffee. I might have fared better at Panditarama if I had had a jug of it then.</div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>About a week after the first skunk encounter I was slowly walking toward the meditation hall, as before in the early morning before dawn, and a light rain was falling. After clearing overhead obstructions I snapped my umbrella open, and immediately heard a peculiar rustling noise directly in front of me. I looked and beheld, maybe twelve feet away, the aimed back end and menacingly upraised tail of an alarmed skunk. I mindfully, slowly hastened away from it, trying to go not quite fast enough to alarm it any farther, with a strange desire to go fast and slow at the same time. I sat down to my first meditation of the day with my heart still beating fast. As before, for the rest of the day I observed the desire to announce to somebody, “This morning I was almost attacked by a skunk!” but didn’t.</i></blockquote><div class="p2">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;I intend to discuss the actual meditation method, as well as my criticisms of it, positive, negative, and neutral, in the next post. Also, an instructive <b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1UQSLuSqyQ&amp;index=3&amp;list=PLVqOKx7e2qhexyaLkpxQDSClAJG1C5Dgy" target="_blank">YouTube video</a></b> on meditation points out that to tell others about one’s meditative experiences may be fascinating, but to hear others tell of theirs is unbearable torture. Even so, I will share one meditative experience here.<i></i></div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; After about one week of intensive practice, during the early evening, my mindfulness became very clear and quick, and my consciousness seemed to start expanding and accelerating somehow. Thoughts were noted almost immediately and would then disappear, and I began feeling a kind of joyous exhilaration. I abandoned the Mahasi method just a little at this point and, in a manner of speaking, flung my attention wide open, trying not to exclude anything. This triggered a marked upsurge of the intensity and exhilaration, and, at the risk of giving some kind of touchy-feely cliché, my arms seemed to be surging with a kind of golden light, with feelings of pleasure or <i>piti</i> so intense that the arms seemed to melt somewhat and were twitching uncontrollably. Excited thoughts started arising, which I would note and let go.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “I can do this!” Note it, let it go.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “All right!” Note it, let it go.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; “Excellent!” Note it, let it go.</div><div class="p1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I was noting the exhilarated feeling also; but before very long it started overwhelming my powers of detachment, and before long the expanded meditative state crashed. It didn’t totally wipe out, but became just “pretty good” for the rest of the sit. Afterwards, while doing walking meditation, sort of, it occurred to me that in order to be fully enlightened, one must be able to note and let go <i>absolutely everything</i> that arises, because anything that you can’t note and dismiss catches you and becomes your Samsara. No matter how pleasant, or unpleasant, or intense, or subtle, if we can’t note and detach from it, we are stuck right there. Writhing in ecstasy? Note it, let it go. Feeling torment and guilt over those 517 nuns and orphans you carelessly allowed to die twelve years ago? Note it, let it go. Feeling a very subtle sense of “me” delicately pervading your experience? Note it, let it go. Otherwise you are stuck in that particular form of Samsara. It seems about as good a definition of enlightenment as I can think of at the moment.</div><br /><div class="p1">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;We Westerners tend not to have nearly as much religious devotion as do Easterners who have been believing, religious Buddhists since childhood, but while slowly walking back and forth there in the meditation hall, with a Buddha statue on the altar silently bearing witness to our struggles, I was deeply inspired by the legendary life of Buddha. First of all, he very probably had experienced states orders of magnitude beyond anything I had felt in meditation, and had skillfully let it all go, with detachment, equanimity, and profound skill. The legend of his enlightenment under the Bodhi Tree at Gaya seems a poetic metaphor; yet I could appreciate to some degree what Gotama had to go through in order to become a Buddha: the legend has Māra the evil one launching every weapon he has against the Bodhisatta—armies, voluptuous daughters, raging tempests, everything. The paintings of the events of that night usually show the soon-to-be Buddha sitting serenely with eyes closed, as though simply ignoring Māra and his seductively wriggling daughters, but I felt that he couldn’t ignore them at all. He was carefully, diligently noting all of it, every last bit of it, in order consciously to let it go. I usually don’t have faith like this, but on that night I was inspired and moved. We don’t meditate for that, however. The faith and inspiration also should be noted and mindfully dismissed. Otherwise we’re still stuck.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kStiwYWj_f8/VohXgRkGMjI/AAAAAAAABho/CfyeNrk4pCk/s1600/Sayadaw%2BU%2BPannathami.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kStiwYWj_f8/VohXgRkGMjI/AAAAAAAABho/CfyeNrk4pCk/s400/Sayadaw%2BU%2BPannathami.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Sayadaw U Paññāsāmi</i></span></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2309446517450033968.post-80201687424923577972015-12-26T15:00:00.000-08:002016-01-01T00:20:18.189-08:00Buddhism Meets William Blake's Devil<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">The Argument.</span></b></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b></b><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Rintrah roars &amp; shakes his fires in the burden'd air;</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Hungry clouds swag on the deep.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Once meek, and in a perilous path,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The just man kept his course along<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The vale of death.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Roses are planted where thorns grow.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And on the barren heath<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Sing the honey bees.<br /></span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Then the perilous path was planted:<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And a river, and a spring<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; On every cliff and tomb;<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And on the bleached bones<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Red clay brought forth.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Till the villain left the paths of ease,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; To walk in perilous paths, and drive<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The just man into barren climes.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Now the sneaking serpent walks<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In mild humility.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And the just man rages in the wilds<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Where lions roam.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Rintrah roars &amp; shakes his fires in the burden'd air;<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Hungry clouds swag on the deep.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p1"><b></b><br /></div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Since this blog was born well over three years ago, I have been intending to write this post. I’m not sure why I put it off for so long (possibly because I’m not sure why I intended to write it), but now is opportune, so here it is.</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I do not pretend to be an authority on William Blake, or on what he wrote. Pretty much all I know about the man is the most famous stuff, like that he was a visionary, a kind of radical, an anarchist, prophet, and heretic, and that he is considered by at least a few modern art critics to be the greatest artist England ever produced.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He saw visions. There is one famous story about Blake as a boy of about ten years old. On his way home he happened to see a tree full of angels. When he told his parents about it, excitedly describing that he saw in detail, he almost received a beating from his father for lying. He continued to see spirits, and to communicate with them, throughout his life; and his contemporary William Wordsworth once said of him in this regard, <span class="s2">“There was no doubt that this poor man was mad, but there is something in the madness of this man which interests me more than the sanity of </span><span class="s1">Lord Byron</span><span class="s2"> and </span><span class="s1">Walter Scott</span><span class="s2">.” But madness and genius are often closely related, as is well known.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In addition to being a great and inspired poet (we can know that he was a great poet if only because only a great one could get away with rhyming the word “eye” with the word “symmetry”), he prophesied, often in very dense writings that are practically incomprehensible to the uninitiated. He was much influenced by the visionary Emanuel Swedenborg, a man approximately as psychic and eccentric as Blake was. It appears that Blake was Christian for no better reason than that he was born in England in the 18th century; his parents were “Dissenters,” and his own religious views would have had him burned at the stake a few hundred years earlier. Some prime examples of his heresy and blasphemy will be shown in what follows.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; I must admit, Blake is not my favorite poet; and most of his prophetic prose is way out of my league. But there is one spiritual philosophic opus of his, a manifesto of sorts, that has made a significant impression on my outlook on life, and that is <i>The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. </i>When I was in my late teens this brief work, and also Khalil Gibran’s <i>The Madman, </i>came about as close to a personal Bible as I had. They advocated freedom, and, to some degree, wisdom-inspired rebellion against “the establishment.” One of my mottos as a college student was a Proverb of Hell: You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough. There are probably more quotes on this blog from this one literary work than from any other.</span></div><div class="p3"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Although <i>The Marriage of Heaven and Hell </i>is not long—the whole thing could be read in maybe half an hour, an hour at most—it is too long to publish here in its entirety. Besides, my purpose is more to compare the philosophical/religious approach of the work with that of Buddhist Dharma. So I will just include here some of the meatier passages from it, as well as the juiciest bit of all, the Proverbs of Hell, amounting to about one-third of the whole. The whole thing is worth reading though. Please bear in mind that the work was written almost as a dark satire, being a kind of biblical tract written from the point of view of devils, not angels.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; …Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; From these contraries spring what the religious call Good &amp; Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The voice of the Devil.</span></b></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">All Bibles or sacred codes have been the causes of the following Errors:</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 1. That Man has two real existing principles: Viz: a Body &amp; a Soul.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 2. That Energy, call'd Evil, is alone from the Body; &amp; that Reason, call'd Good, is alone from the Soul.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">But the following Contraries to these are True:</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call'd Body is a portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 2. Energy is the only life, and is from the Body; and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; 3 Energy is Eternal Delight.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; …Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained; and the restrainer or reason usurps its place &amp; governs the unwilling.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And being restrain’d, it by degrees becomes passive, till it is only the shadow of desire.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The history of this is written in Paradise Lost, &amp; the Governor or Reason is call'd Messiah.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; And the original Archangel or possessor of the command of the heavenly host, is call'd the Devil or Satan, and his children are call'd Sin &amp; Death.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But in the Book of Job Miltons Messiah is call'd Satan.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For this history has been adopted by both parties.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; It indeed appear'd to Reason as if Desire was cast out, but the Devil's account is, that the Messiah fell, &amp; formed a heaven of what he stole from the Abyss.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; This is shewn in the Gospel, where he prays to the Father to send the comforter or Desire that Reason may have Ideas to build on, the Jehovah of the Bible being no other than he who dwells in flaming fire.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Know that after Christs death, he became Jehovah.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But in Milton, the Father is Destiny, the Son, a Ratio of the five senses, &amp; the Holy-ghost, Vacuum!</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Note: The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels &amp; God, and at liberty when of Devils &amp; Hell, is because he was a true Poet and of the Devils party without knowing it.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">Proverbs of Hell.</span></b></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The cut worm forgives the plow.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Dip him in the river who loves water.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Eternity is in love with the productions of time.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The busy bee has no time for sorrow.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The hours of folly are measur'd by the clock; but of wisdom, no clock can measure.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; All wholesome food is caught without a net or a trap.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Bring out number, weight, &amp; measure in a year of dearth.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; A dead body revenges not injuries.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The most sublime act is to set another before you.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Folly is the cloke of knavery.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Shame is Prides cloke.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Prisons are built with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The nakedness of woman is the work of God.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword, are portions of eternity, too great for the eye of man.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The fox condemns the trap, not himself.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Let man wear the fell of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The selfish, smiling fool, &amp; the sullen, frowning fool shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; What is now proved was once only imagin'd.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The rat, the mouse, the fox, the rabbet watch the roots; the lion, the tyger, the horse, the elephant watch the fruits.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The cistern contains: the fountain overflows.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; One thought fills immensity.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The fox provides for himself, but God provides for the lion.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; He who has suffer'd you to impose on him, knows you.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As the plow follows words, so God rewards prayers.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The tygers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Expect poison from the standing water.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Listen to the fools reproach! it is a kingly title!<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The weak in courage is strong in cunning.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow; nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If others had not been foolish, we should be so.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; When thou seest an Eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius; lift up thy head!<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As the catterpiller chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; To create a little flower is the labour of ages.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Damn braces. Bless relaxes.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Prayers plow not! Praises reap not!<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not!<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty, the hands &amp; feet Proportion.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; As the air to a bird or the sea to a fish, so is contempt to the contemptible.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The crow wish'd every thing was black, the owl that every thing was white.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Exuberance is Beauty.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Improvement makes strait roads; but the crooked roads without Improvement are roads of Genius.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Where man is not, nature is barren.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ'd.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Enough! or Too much.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; …If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite.&nbsp;</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; …<span class="s1">Thus one portion of being is the Prolific, the other the Devouring: to the devourer it seems as if the producer was in his chains, but it is not so; he only takes portions of existence and fancies that the whole.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But the Prolific would cease to be Prolific unless the Devourer, as a sea, received the excess of his delights.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Some will say: 'Is not God alone the Prolific?' I answer: 'God only Acts &amp; Is, in existing beings or Men.'</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; These two classes of men are always upon earth, &amp; they should be enemies; whoever tries to reconcile them seeks to destroy existence.</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Religion is an endeavour to reconcile the two.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; …'The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, &amp; breeds reptiles of the mind.'</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; …Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules.</span></span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Unquote. Obviously, a devout, traditional Christian, or for that matter a traditional Buddhist, would consider much of this stuff to be outrageous blasphemy and heresy. What is a good Buddhist to think of, say, “Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires”?</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; But there is a method to Blake’s madness, and some real profundity also. Blake realized that a polarized, one-sided attempt at spirituality, emphasizing Good over Evil, doesn’t work. A duality requires both extremes for its existence. Every strength has its weakness; every light has its corresponding darkness; one end of a polarity cannot exist alone, and thus a one-sided religion of Virtue simply reinforces and perpetuates what it is attempting to defeat.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Blake’s vision of a complete spirituality reminds me of the traditional Hindu conception of the God-man Krishna: He was not just the embodiment of goodness and virtue, but was the divine embodiment of <i>everything</i>—which includes war, death, romantic love, sex, deception, trouble, and everything that might be called “impurity” or “sin.” Krishna is all-encompassing, universal. Absolutely everything lies within the scope of the God of Everything; and thus, ultimately, everything is Divine. Absolutely everything is sacred and holy. Even evil itself is seen as evil only due to a very polarized, incomplete vision of how things really are. &nbsp;</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; The predominant theme of <i>The Marriage of Heaven and Hell</i>, though, is not so much the idea of embracing evil as well as good, since, as just pointed out, Blake apparently considered evil to be a kind of illusion (as have many others, like Mary Baker Eddy, Walt Whitman, and millions of Mahayana Buddhists). The dual polarity he embraced was Reason and Energy, stability and chaos, or, as he states the case later on, the Devouring and the Prolific. Using the language of Greek Paganism, the philosophy of Nietzsche, and modern cultural anthropology, we could call it the duality of Apollo and Dionysus.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; According to Blake, it is Energy or “Evil” which creates, and Reason or “Good” which organizes and stabilizes what has been created, which establishes order out of chaos. Thus both are necessary for the world to exist. And thus it makes sense to accept and allow both principles—if, that is, we want the world to exist.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Blake was a poetic visionary and a prophet, although he seems not to have been deep enough of a mystic to fully appreciate the idea that this phenomenal world is an illusion. He acknowledges that we see the world very imperfectly, but stops short of the realization that what it really is, is formless, unthinkable Void, or what a Christian mystic might call “God.” So when he asserts that trying to reconcile the Prolific with the Devourer is an attempt of “religion” (apparently used in a devilish, derogatory sense) to destroy the world, he seems to consider this attempt to be ill-advised, as he saw this world to be a genuine manifestation of Divinity. This is why, as a Buddhist of sorts, I cannot really endorse Blake’s vision of spirituality. If the phenomenal world is an illusory system generated from a dependently co-arising duality of positive and negative, yang and yin, then although Divinity underlies it, the system itself obscures that Divinity by distracting people and causing them to believe that the illusion is all there is, and that it is the only truth. Although embracing the whole is better than embracing half and rejecting half, still, the Buddhist option of not wallowing in it at all, neither in Energy nor in Reason, seems wiser. Accepting the whole world with love is of course much better than rejecting it, or even half of it, with aversion; but Buddhist philosophy teaches that a serious practitioner of Dharma would detach from all of it, neither doing good works nor bad. This destroys the world in a sense, but it is destroying an illusion.</span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; So better a Blake-like acceptance of passion and chaos than a Puritan rejection of same; but better still a profound detachment from (not <i>rejection </i>of) the whole phantasmagoria. But if you are unable or unwilling to detach from the system, then better Blake than Milton.</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Before ending this I would like to add one little commentarial discussion of one of the juiciest-sounding of the Proverbs of Hell: Prisons are built with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion. It has a really visceral appeal, doesn’t it? But nowadays I suspect that most people who read it don’t realize what it’s supposed to mean. One should bear in mind that when the Proverbs were published, in the early 1790’s, there were only two kinds of women in Christian England: respectable women, and whores. And if a young Christian woman lost her virginity before marriage, and the cad who “deflowered” her then refused to marry her, then she was “ruined,” no longer respectable, and considered unworthy of becoming a “respectable” man’s wife. She might even be disowned by her family, and banished into the streets. Thus if a young woman followed her energy and passions more than her passivity and reason, she might easily find herself in a situation in which becoming a prostitute was one of her only, desperate options for survival. So breaking the laws of the land could land a person in a stone prison, and breaking the laws of religion could land her in a brick whorehouse. But of course nowadays the dividing line between respectable women and whores has been pretty much erased. &nbsp;</span></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p1"><span class="s1"></span><br /></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">Chorus.</span></b></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black, with hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren, whom, tyrant, he calls free: lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery call that virginity, that wishes but acts not!</span></span></div><div class="p2"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #351c75;">&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; For every thing that lives is Holy.</span></span></div><br /><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_i5Io2vWNCQ/Vk_DX9EHinI/AAAAAAAABgM/jlRFNH9psVE/s1600/Blake%2Bplate%2B21%2BMHH%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_i5Io2vWNCQ/Vk_DX9EHinI/AAAAAAAABgM/jlRFNH9psVE/s400/Blake%2Bplate%2B21%2BMHH%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="371" /></a></div><div class="p1" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>David Reynoldshttps://plus.google.com/112112484626071964517noreply@blogger.com0